


Ouroboros

by Silverine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: #notmyshiro, Canon Universe, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Angst, Genetic Experimentation, I repeat: Slow Burn, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Post Season 4, Slow Burn, Supportive Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-02-02 17:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 78,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12730869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverine/pseuds/Silverine
Summary: "Everything changes, nothing perishes." And where it all started is where it all has to end...Lotor is in the Coalition's hands, and they have to decide what to do with him. But his information may cause problems, especially for Keith, who'll have to make some hard decisions... always under Lance's gaze, who knows a lot more than he should. Why did he have to tell him so much? Why does he care so much? And... what is Lotor really after?Set after season 4 finale and canon divergent. A slow burn fic centered in Klance, while the Voltron team has to overcome all sorts of trouble, stirred by the worst prisoner ever and his venomous mouth.*Versión en españolaquí





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Uróboros](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705396) by [Silverine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverine/pseuds/Silverine). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This is a translation of my first fic ever, which you can find up there in Spanish ^. If you spot any mistakes, I'd be grateful if you let me know! I always update the spanish ver. first, and the english ver. a few hours later.  
> I started this fic to cope with the wait for season 5! I didn't think it'd take me so long to finish lol. But I stand by my headcanons and I hope you like it. The rating may change in the future. For now, we are on to a slow burn fic, there's a lot of pining and troubles, but there will be romance, promise. I hope you enjoy!~

Less than an hour had passed since the Naxzela incident. Lotor’s surprising appearance and his declaration had resulted as shocking as the eventual explosion from which they had been saved. For a few minutes, no one had known how to act: rebel fleets, members of the Blade and team Voltron stayed silent in their lines, until everyone seemed to snap out of the trance at the same time. Lotor? THE Prince Lotor? What kind of trap was this? What was going on?

“A moment, please,” suddenly said Allura’s commanding voice, achieving immediate silence.“We have just dealt an enormous blow to the Galra Empire, the biggest since its rise, suffering irreparable losses among our ranks. I request all the troops that are in shape to perform maneuvers to lend aid to those who can’t, and devote your efforts to the accounting and rescue of any possible survivors. This is the most urgent matter now...”

An "understood, Princess," was heard in unison on the line.

“Regarding the situation of Prince Lotor...” Allura paused before continuing, as if what she was going to say deeply displeased her. “We need to talk to him. He is alone against our entire army. He just attacked a galran battle cruiser. I do not trust him more than any of you do, I assure you, but I think we need to hear what he has to say. For that reason, I ask for the Rebels and Blade leaders’ presence at the castle as soon as possible. We want you to be present when we face Lotor, and... we have decided to bring him here.”

“To the Castleship?” asked Keith, incredulous.

Shiro’s voice answered the question.

“We believe that's the safest place to keep him, for now. Voltron will escort him to the Castle and when we arrive there we’ll move to a safer place. Coran will send you all the coordinates as soon as we are settled. Please, be prepared.”

Keith listened to the orders, still confused. Not only had he been close to death, but he had been saved by the last creature he would expect to do so in all known galaxies: Lotor. The elusive Galra prince who had given them so many headaches in the past, now voluntarily surrendered, and had saved him from certain death. Nothing made sense.

The Blade’s communicator came to life.

“Keith,” Kolivan’s voice rang in his ear, “come back to Senfama at once. We need to talk before they summon us. Ralek is also coming with us.”

“Understood,” replied Keith, setting his course back to the planet where they had dismantled the Galra artillery.

A strange uneasiness invaded him, and it took him a moment to distinguish the reason. Suddenly he realized that he hadn't set foot in the Castleship for at least three months in terrestrial time. The uneasiness transformed into some kind of warm bubbling when he did, once again, what was starting to become a habit: remembering the place, especially the bridge. He could clearly visualize its bright walls and the stars in front of them, and every member of the squad at their post. Allura at the center, beautiful, serious, illuminated by the ethereal light of Altean energy. Shiro’s strong back, while he looked at the stellar chart, thinking strategies and courses to follow. Good old Coran by his side, talking nonstop. Pidge and Hunk, arguing, creating, confusing them with their calculations and inventions: a new tool, a new detector, a new meter. Lance, hands behind his head, relaxed, his blue eyes closed with weariness when the conversation of the others became incomprehensible, his sarcastic remarks, and his seriousness when there was work to do.

He missed them, and he had decided to assume it (exclusively in his mind) weeks ago. That image persisted in his mind as a soft memory that, however, sometimes tormented him, like a permanent toothache. During his time working for the Blade he had learned a lot, and even his perception of their mission had changed, but he never felt the familiar feeling of the Castle again. The Blades were not like that. They had motivations easier to understand and actions much more comfortable to him: infiltration, information, destruction, escape. Again and again. Things he could do without the complexities of Voltron missions, without having to deal with the weight of leadership nor the obligation to think as one with his comrades. But in the Blade every individual had to carry their own weight and, at the same time, the mission was always above every individual. That was the hardest part. Leaving a teammate behind for a mere piece of information still went against his principles.

But, more than his new lifestyle, the real problem was that, after three months, the Blade hadn't been able to help him at all with his petition. They only promised to help him if possible, to unveil a mystery that they still hadn’t solved either, but that wasn’t a priority. Keith could stay with them waiting for a clue or an answer to appear, and the Blade was thankful for his talents in the meantime. However, he must not forget that they had a much bigger mission than the personal problems of each member, so he had to concentrate on what was important...  

Mission, mission, mission. Day and night, a constant fight between person and mission. Priorities.

‘The Blade exists since a long ago, but Voltron cannot keep going without you’ said the kind voice in his mind, once again.

‘But it did’ answered Keith, for the thousandth time.

The ship landed in the planet’s surface with little subtlety, while members of the Blade walked closer to it. It was Kolivan and a few others.

“Welcome, Keith. There’s much honor in your sacrifice,” greeted Kolivan.

“Sacrifice?” asked Keith.

“We know what you tried to do. We know you were going to do it, and your decision is, by itself, a noble sacrifice,” said the Galra. His deep voice sounded pleased.

“I didn’t sacrifice myself, Kolivan. Lotor was my _savior,_ ” replied Keith, unable to suppress the bitterness in his voice.

Kolivan did not delve into the subject, and decided to go straight to the point. The group headed back to the base.

“We have things to discuss. They’ll summon us soon, and we can expect anything from him.”

“I know,” said Keith.

* * *

 

Captain Olia and her team, Matt Holt included, were already at the castle hall when the Blade of Marmora team arrived. Members of the Blade were used to the distant treatment that even their allies gave them, either because of suspicion, resentment against Galra or their intimidating appearances. Therefore, it was a surprise to everyone that Matt came over and, with a warm smile, put his hands over Keith's shoulders.

“It’s good to see you alive and well, Keith. What you did was very brave… and very stupid,” he said.

Keith oscillated between feeling flattered and annoyed.

“It was the right thing to do,” he said, “we can't always count with having an enemy change sides at the last minute.”

“No, but I’m glad it happened this time,” replied Matt, giving him one last pat in his shoulders. Behind him, Captain Olia approached Kolivan. She quietly extended her hand to him, who shook it.

“Good fight. Thanks for your efforts,” said Olia.

“It’s been an honor. May victory keep accompanying us,” replied Kolivan, solemnly.

Maybe because Keith was already accustomed to Kolivan’s perpetual serious face enough to identify his emotions, but he could note that he was surprised and had almost smiled.

Coran appeared and greeted both delegations in a hurry. He stopped for one extra tick on Keith to give him an affectionate pat on the back, but proceeded to guide them immediately to the meeting room where they had already been, and Keith’s heart thumped when he saw that all paladins were already there. Somehow, he had expected to find them reunited and that they would approach him to greet him and celebrate, but instead, they were already seated in their respective positions, showing different levels of concern in their faces. The reason was on sight.

Prince Lotor was sitting by Allura’s side, in a chair they had added at a corner of the table. He was, undoubtedly, not being treated as a guest, but as a threat. It didn’t seem to matter to him, while he was calmly watching the room, as if the situation was amusing him. His hands, tied by an artifact similar to Allura's whip, rested relaxed on the table.

After a brief pause at the door, the delegations went to their chairs, all eyes fixed on the prisoner. He looked back at them without much interest, until he saw Keith. For some reason, the boy felt a stitch of hate while seeing those eyes stop on him for a couple of seconds, and then continue their disinterested tour around the room. In order not to look at Lotor, Keith looked at his friends. Hunk and Pidge briefly waved at him with their hands, and Shiro nodded, the corners of his mouth showing a faint smile. Lance, however, seemed not to see him. He didn’t take his eyes off Lotor until Allura stood up. The princess looked uncomfortable but, as always, her face showed that she was ready to give a lesson in diplomacy.

“Welcome. Before we begin, I want to thank you with all my heart for the effort you put in this battle. I know that we have suffered irreparable losses, but this strike against the Galra Empire will go down in history as the first great step towards the eradication of their cruel reign.”

Everyone nodded. She continued. “I know you are tired and wishing to reunite with your people, but we have… an urgent matter to discuss.”

People moved in their chairs, and all eyes turned again to Lotor.

“Prince Lotor, of the Galra, is currently a declared enemy of the Empire. As you know, Emperor Zarkon has directed all his efforts to find him, which gave us the opportunity to prepare this offensive. Now it is clear why Naxzela was the last planet of the perimeter to fall: the Galra had total confidence that the explosion would work, and it almost did. That took us by surprise and put the mission at risk. The appearance of Lotor has been fortunate... at least today.”

Whispers of mistrust became an outraged silence when Lotor spoke.

“You flatter me, princess Allura. You make it sound like a feat.”

Allura's blush, far from showing shyness, filled the air with danger.

“Nobody flatters you, Lotor. I think nobility is not a virtue you know.” Her tone was ice cold. “I demand that you confess the true motive behind your actions. You would never do anything so risky without expecting something in return.”

“As I said before your guests arrived, Princess, you are starting from the wrong premise. You seem to believe, for some reason, that I work in favor of the Empire,” he answered.

“I wonder if the fact that you're the son of Emperor Zarkon would have uh, I don’t know… something to do with that?” said Hunk, visibly annoyed.

“Well, that is not something I can control,” he replied, with a slight smile, “but at least I did not inherit his face, it could have been worse...”

“Enough. You are the prince of the Empire, and you reigned in your father’s absence,” Allura fumed, “do you expect us to believe that you want the fall of the Empire that you helped to maintain?”

“The same Empire that chases after me?” Lotor gave a snort of indifference, “at this very moment I could not care less. If I am here it's because, by my own free will, I come to offer my help.”

“You mean you come to use us as a shield against your father, right?” chided him captain Olia, aloud.

“You must know better than anyone, it’s not easy to survive when the Galra Empire declares you a fugitive, so yes, there is no shame in recognizing it. I'm looking for protection,” said Lotor.

“And you think _we're_ going to protect _you_?” the captain angrily lashed out.

“I do not expect to be actively protected. I do not care if you keep me as a prisoner. However, I possess information of interest, in addition to being the most wanted individual in the universe right now... probably,” said the prince with absolute indifference, tilting his head slightly to the side. “If we think about it, I believe it could be good for the Coalition to have some currency in case of emergency, right?”

“Or maybe we should just kill you right here,” said Ralek, the other member of the Blade of Marmora, as Captain Olia and her team nodded energetically.

“Having him here is dangerous, Princess. The Galra are looking for him with all their resources, and they probably already know that it was him who attacked the battle cruiser,” Matt intervened, running his fingers along his chin, with concern. “Who knows what they’ll be willing to do to take him back.”

“I know. They must already suspect that we have him here, at the Castleship,” said Allura.

“We have given the order to all of our troops to return to different safe perimeters, claimed by the Coalition,” said Shiro. “The possibility of a counter attack is very high. It was before, now with Lotor here... it's even higher.”

“I do not think so. At least, I doubt that danger is imminent. The witch fled, if she were in a position to bring reinforcements, she would have done so,” Lotor intervened. Shiro looked at him coldly. The prince continued:

“They probably believe that you are wiser than you really are, that you have taken me to some distant planet, or killed me on the spot... I'm sorry, I do not want to offend anyone,” he said, with a tone that showed the opposite, managing to bristle the entire room in a single sentence, “but although it is true that Emperor Zarkon is devoting his efforts to find me, not even he can recover so quickly from this attack. No, he will not stop looking for me, however, I think that at least for now we can rest assured. After all, the worst possible scenario for them already happened...”

“What is that?” asked Allura, abruptly.

“You caught me first,” answered Lotor. The room was silent for a few seconds.

Keith's irritation was increasing. Lotor's insolence and recalling the months they had spent looking for him caused a deep rejection in his mind, and the mere fact of having him aboard felt wrong. The fact that he 'owed' him made it even worse. But, wasn’t this what they were looking him for? It was time to squeeze the information out.

“Cut the nonsense. We want to know the truth. Zarkon is chasing you since long before our attack, start there,” demanded Keith.

“Well, this is what happens when an emperor wakes up from his nap and discovers that his son lost a few systems in his absence,” replied Lotor.

“ _A few_ systems?! You mean entire  _sectors_! The nerve…” Coran was clearly on the verge of losing his temper, but Keith hit the table before that.

“That's not enough reason for Zarkon himself to come after you. We know that it was you who tried to steal the teludav from the Galra base, and that you have the comet in your hands. We saw your people there, we fought them. Is that why?”

“Now it's in _your_  hands,” pointed the prince, “take it as an offering of peace. My ship is yours now.”

“What did you want the teludav for?” Shiro asked.

Lotor paused a moment before answering.

“What I wanted doesn’t matter anymore. It is true. My father discovered that it was me who took the comet and who sabotaged the base. High treason. However, it is not the fact that his son betrayed him what concerns him. He is afraid that I will use these artifacts against him, and with good reason.”

“What do you mean?”

“Emperor Zarkon is obsessed with quintessence. He keeps the witch Haggar and his druids by his side at all times, because without them he could not have survived all these years. When he discovered that I have such a powerful artifact in my possession, he did not even wait for an explanation before declaring me an enemy of the Empire. But he did well. I am an enemy to _his_ Empire.”

Silence once again, this time an astonished one. Keith's anger threatened to overtake him.

“Do you expect us to believe... you seriously expect us to believe that you want to destroy the Empire that you ruled until a few days ago?” he said in a louder voice than appropriate.

“Keith, calm down,” said Shiro.

“This is stupid, Shiro, and you know it,” Keith replied.

“I’m with Keith in this one,” suddenly said Lance. Keith looked at him, but Lance did not return his gaze, instead looking at Lotor with a raised eyebrow and distrust imprinted on his face. He continued.

“This isn't the first time that Lotor has tried to confuse us, and of course it won’t be the last. If he's here it’s because, of all his options, we are the least ... Horrible? ... And if that’s so, just imagine the others. What does that tell us? That this guy is treacherous enough to leave his own Empire, his family, and even his closest men behind to save himself. You guys really think we can trust a single word from someone like him?”

The rest of the table nodded energetically. Keith also agreed, but the lack of eye contact was starting to bother him. First he had suspected it, but now he was sure: Lance was avoiding his gaze. That did not help at all to calm him down.

However, Lotor shrugged and gave a slight snort. All the faces turned once more towards him.

“You are wrong again. I do not expect your trust, what’s more, I would be quite disappointed if you trusted me so easily. Also, you are misunderstanding me. I do not want the destruction of my people, on the contrary, I believe in the bright future of our race. But the corruption of its emperor will lead us to ruin… It is already taking us there, in fact. It became clear that, in his absence, the sustainability of the Empire is limited. And while he reigns, we’ll keep being slaves to the magic of his druids.”

Lotor's voice held a serious tone, and suddenly, it became almost mournful.

“I already made my attempt. I wanted to go back to the root of the problem and remove it, but it did not work. It was a bet, I put everything on the line, and I lost. If we failed, we would have the Empire on us, with no chance of escape. That’s what happened. My generals are smart people; they turned their backs on me and tried to capture me to save themselves. I fled, and found myself in the middle of your convenient attack. I measured my possibilities, and that's why I am here. There is no sophisticated plan behind this: the sophisticated plan has already failed. I'm here because I saw an opportunity and took it.”

The prince had his hands wielded as he spoke, and his tone was convincing. Everyone seemed confused. For the first time in the reunion, the voice of Pidge was heard, asking:

“And what was your plan, exactly? We know that the teludav was destroyed, or at least part of it was destroyed. What did you want it for?”

“Ah, yes. That was quite a blow, and it may be the reason for my ultimate failure,” Lotor replied, with a bitter smile. “You see, I wanted to face my father with his own weapons. When I say I wanted to go back to the root, it's literal. I went to our home: Daibazaal.”

“Daibazaal was destroyed ten thousand years ago,” said Coran, “it was never your home.”

“That's an interesting discussion. I would like, in fact, to talk about it later with Princess Allura ... in private,” replied Lotor.

“You have nothing to discuss with our princess in private!” snapped Coran, furious, his mustache bristling, while Allura also looked at him with total distrust.

The Galra prince laughed briefly, but then straightened in his seat and, with a haughty look, said:

“I have made my motives clear. I do not have to give any more explanations. I simply put in your hands my ship, my knowledge and the information that I can provide. I assure you that I desire as much as you do the fall of my father and, even more, the fall of his sorcerers. They have poisoned our Empire, and have subjected it to their obsession with things they cannot comprehend. The sacrifices they have made the whole known universe bear are countless. You can believe me or not, you can give me the prisoner treatment, or even get rid of me. But I hope you first consider my offer. I am convinced that it is the most convenient plan for everyone that I remain alive, at least for now. Of course, for me it is quite comfortable to have my head attached to my body ... but I understand that you may need to deliberate before. So, go ahead.”

Lotor leaned back in his seat, and clasped his hands in his lap, like someone who’s waiting for an answer to an offer that cannot be refused. Keith could feel a vein throbbing in his temple.

“We shall deliberate, but not in your presence, Lotor,” said Allura. “Coran, Lance, please… escort him to the dungeon, and come back here. Coran, activate the security protocol for Class One prisoners.”

Both men stood up and took Lotor out of the room, while all the others spoke at once.

"Princess, Lotor is a manipulator," Kolivan said, his voice impassive. “Even within the Empire he is famous for its methods. While his information may seem valuable, it’s useless if it is false.”

“He seemed to be quite popular among his people,” Matt commented, “among the things I heard, his people followed his orders loyally, and seemed almost happy with him.”

“The Empire is looking for a replacement for Zarkon, and for the people, his young son seemed the most appropriate. However, little is really known about him,” said Ralek, “it was only a while ago that the existence of Zarkon's son and his exile came to light.”

“Exile? Had his father already exiled him before?” Hunk asked.

“For unknown reasons, he did not grow by his father’s side. The high sphere, however, have never trusted him. His rise was a scandal among the elite, mainly because he chose only half-breed as his commanders and most trusted men. We have tried for years to obtain more information about him, but our attempts have been unsuccessful,” explained Kolivan.

“It doesn’t matter where he came from, what matters is that he’s a permanent danger, and the best we can do is get rid of him,” said Keith, crossing his arms.

“We’ve followed Lotor's footsteps and tried to stop him. But now things have changed: if what he says is true, he could really be useful," said Shiro.

"’If what he says is true’", of course it’s not true! Lotor is an elusive bug. One mistake and he’ll take the advantage again,” Keith retorted.

“Keith, think about it. As Lance said, if he's here it's because the guy literally ran out of options. He's trapped,” said Hunk.

“Lance also said that we can’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth, and he's right,” Keith replied. It was so weird to quote Lance as an authority in any matter.

“Allura, I think it would be better to keep him in custody. After all, we ignore more things than what we know. Maybe it's an opportunity to learn more about Zarkon, from a direct source,” noted Shiro.

“Having a Galra Prince under our control can't be a disadvantage. Also, we need to find out about his use of the comet, remember that his ship is built with the same material as Voltron ... Knowing that the comet is here is one less concern and we can get a lot out of it,” added Pidge, her eyes shining with enthusiasm.

Allura reflected in silence, and the rest of the room did the same until Coran and Lance returned.

“What did we miss? Did you decide if we’re making him walk the plank or not?” asked Lance.

“What?” asked Allura, confused.

“Sorry, earthling stuff. What are we gonna do with Lotor?” the paladin asked, sitting again.

Keith fixed his eyes on him, and spoke loudly.

“They want to keep him here because they don’t consider him a threat.”

“Oh, I see.” Lance looked at his own hands, but when he heard him he just looked at Allura. Keith's anger was reaching a breaking point. _‘I see’_? And what was with the non-eye-contact?

Allura sighed, and addressed her guests.

“I know it's not possible to trust a man like Lotor. Maybe everything he said is a lie, however, Zarkon is looking for him and there must be a good reason. Lotor's offense was serious, which means he is dangerous to the Empire, and we have that menace in our hands. That's why we only have two options: keep him here, or...”

“Eliminate him,” completed Keith.

“Why would we kill him, having the chance of getting valuable information?” Pidge was frowning.

“Because he's a serious threat. A slip and ...”

“There won’t be any slip,” Shiro declared, in an authoritative tone. Then, looking at Keith, he relaxed his face and added:

“Nothing's gonna happen. He lost all of his power, his ship is under our control. He has nowhere to run. We have him where we wanted. It’s the best scenario in which we could have found him, especially if he’s willing to give us information. It’s better for us to keep him alive.”

Keith sighed, and he suddenly felt conscious of his own exhaustion. The argument seemed to have drained his remaining energy. Kolivan spoke.

“We trust, Princess, that the best will be done for the Coalition. Information is always crucial, we know that well, and you can count on us on that matter. Just do not allow Lotor to influence you, as I said before, his manipulation methods are famous.”

“There’s absolutely no risk of that,” affirmed Allura, serious. “Nothing that Lotor says can make me change my opinion regarding him nor ... nor the Empire.”

Keith guessed that she really meant to say "the Galra," but that would have been disrespectful to her Blade allies.

“It's decided, then,” said Captain Olia “Is he staying here?”

“For now, it’s the safest option. However, I think we’ll need to change locations, to make him harder to find. We will discuss that on another occasion,” concluded Allura.

“I believe it is time for everyone to take a break. You can rest here, if you wish,” offered Coran.

The guests declined the offer, eager to return to their people. When they were standing, however, Allura addressed the members of the Blade.

“Keith, I need you to stay. Kolivan, could you do without Keith for a day?”

Kolivan stared at the boy, who looked back at him somewhat confused, and then stared back at Allura, nodding.

“Thank you. Keith, please, stay here. Coran, could you accompany the leaders?”

“Of course, Princess,” he replied, “over here, please...”

Matt was the last one to leave the room. He said goodbye with a loving hug to his sister Pidge, shook hands with Shiro, Hunk and Lance, and made a shy gesture with his hand to Allura while leaving, walking backwards until the door closed in front of his nose. Keith, who was standing by the door, went back to his seat and felt the eyes of all the paladins on him, this time including Lance. His blue eyes were now fixed on his, and suddenly he felt the urge to be the one to avoid his gaze this time. He didn't understand why, but the atmosphere made him feel like a child about to be scolded.

“It's good to have you with us again,” said Allura, smiling wearily.

“Thanks ... it's good that you're all ok,” Keith replied, confused.

“We're fine thanks to a ... I don’t know if I should call it a miracle,” Shiro crossed his arms, also tiredly smiling.

“No kidding, this time I saw my life pass in front of my eyes, like seriously,” said Hunk, sprawling in his seat and putting a hand on his face.

“If you saw your life pass before your eyes, Hunk, imagine what Keith saw,” said Lance, now with his eyes closed and his arms behind his head.

Everyone was silent, and Keith understood.

“Who…?”

“Matt told us,” interrupted Pidge, very serious.

“Listen, I...”

“We were there, but it was so confusing. We didn’t even realize until Matt explained to us,” said Shiro. “Keith, you risked your life...”

“It was the only way,” declared Keith.

Lance punched the table, and looked at him with suppressed fury.

“At that time there were no options, we get it. But sacrifice is _not_ an option on this team. Keith, you would have died...”

“There were no other alternatives!” Keith snapped, “do you think that my ideal plan was to throw myself...?”

“YOU ARE AN EXPERT PILOT!” Lance was screaming at this point. “You intend to tell me that crashing a ship with you inside instead of ejecting is the best option you could think of?!”

“Guys, there's no reason to be violent...” Hunk tried to calm the spirits, but Keith looked at Lance, open mouthed.

“I--I didn’t think about it. The ship was not familiar to me...” he stammered.

“No, I'll tell you why you didn’t even think about it,” said Lance, pointing an accusing finger, “it’s because you don’t value your life AT ALL.”

“What did you say?” Keith could feel the blood rising to his head.

“You've been for too long with the Blade. They got into your head with that ‘mission first’… weird… obsession!” said Lance, also angrily blushing.

“Do I really have to remind you that in this case we would all be dead? This time the mission and our lives were the same thing, we were about to explode in a radius of ten solar systems!” said Keith, heatedly.

“Lance, enough,” intervened Shiro, touching his temple, as if his head hurt, “It wasn’t the plan to argue with Keith about this.”

Lance opened his mouth to say something, but instead, he frowned at Shiro, and then looked back at his knees. Another attitude that Keith, in all his anger, felt unfamiliar with.

"Keith, we all appreciate your courage," Allura said, in a conciliatory tone, "but we do not want you to forget that losing you in the context of a mission is one of the worst results imaginable. It’s the same with everyone else. Even if you are not with us now, you are still part of Team Voltron, and no one here is replaceable...”

“But this mission was different...” began to say Keith, angered again. How could they not understand?

“We know, Keith, seriously, we understand. If it hadn’t been for Lotor... damn, seriously...” Hunk wanted to continue, but the idea of what would’ve happened without Lotor’s intervention seemed to surpass him.

“We understand, but we don’t approve it. In this extreme situation, we understand your decision, and perhaps any of us in your place would have done the same,” explained Shiro, “but, really, what we mean--”

“Ugh, guys, it's simple. We don’t want to go through this again!” stated Pidge, extending her hands as if she was explaining something obvious. “If we find ourselves in a dangerous situation again, we don’t want any sacrifice of yours to be the first option. Like, ever.”

“It's not, this time was different, how many times do I have to repeat it?” replied Keith, now more exasperated than angry. Fatigue was softening him.

The door opened and Coran entered at a trot, arms outstretched.

“Did I come back in time for the group hug?” he asked happily, looking at everyone's faces. Seeing their expressions, he seemed to deflate a bit.

“Really? Is there a group hug scheduled?” Keith asked, exhausted.

Hunk and Pidge began to laugh. The entrance of Coran had softened the atmosphere.

“Of course, did you think you were going to escape from these?” Hunk said, standing up and approaching their Blade member. Allura and Shiro looked at each other, smiling, and also stood up. Before being crushed by Hunk and Pidge in his seat, Keith could see Lance sigh, and with a half-edged smile, stand up and move closer.

“Welcome back, Keith,” said Shiro, “we want you to stay at least until tomorrow. We know you have work to do, but...”

“Take a break, man. You deserve it,” said Hunk.

“Thanks for everything,” said Allura, putting a soft hand on his shoulder. On his other shoulder, Lance also put a hand in silence.

“N-No ... there's nothing to thank me for...” Keith stuttered, embarrassed.

The exhaustion, the indescribable fear he had felt when making the decision to sacrifice himself, the relief and warmth of the embrace were getting tangled in his mind, making him feel like he was melting in the seat. A persistent knot insisted on forming in his throat, and suddenly, his Blade uniform seemed so out of place, so cold and uncomfortable, that the urge to take it off began to choke him. Or maybe it was just Hunk's arm crushing his chest.

When the team finally released him, they decided that they were going to celebrate that night, even if they had a Galra prince on board. Allura and Shiro, unstoppable and against all of Coran's protests, would return to the bridge to give some last orders and control the situation. The others were allowed to take a break, although they felt guilty about going to sleep while Allura and Shiro worked, so they took care of different things: Hunk decided it was a good time to cook, and Pidge offered to help Coran with Lotor’s situation. It was necessary to adjust security protocols for prisoners that hadn’t been used for millennia. Lance would go to the bridge in a moment, to see in what he could be of help, he announced, and retired to his room.

Keith was the only one who was forbidden to work: in Coran's eyes, he was not getting enough sleep, and in Hunk's eyes, he was not eating enough. Frustrated, but definitely exhausted, he went to the room that was still his.

When the door closed behind him, another wave of nostalgia hit him. In there, he could really measure how much he’d missed the place that had been his home for so long. Seriously, how much time had passed since they had left Earth and had become entangled in this senseless mission? Since when was _this_ his home?

His clothes were intact, on the bed. The castle did not collect dust, which was a real luck, otherwise the room would have felt abandoned. Instead, save for the abnormally well made bed, it looked like he had rose that morning and returned. He took his clothes, eager to go for a bath and remove the uniform that had accompanied him for weeks. All his things had remained in the castle, except the most personal ones. Everything else had been procured to him by the Blade. Trying not to think about Lotor again, he directed his steps toward the baths.

Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to enjoy the comforts of the Castleship once more, he thought, while floating in the huge pool. It would be more difficult to return to the trench life that the Marmorians carried. On one hand, it had the advantage that he never got attached to the places they visited before moving again, which simplified things, but he had lived in the Castle for so long that his standards seemed to have gotten higher. It’d not be easy to return to the cold beds that the Blade procured...

He walked to his room, enjoying the wonderful freedom of his human clothes, until he stopped at the corner when he saw that, in front of his door, Lance was waiting for him with his back against the wall. The silence became heavy the seconds while both looked directly into each other's eyes once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Edit: that feel when you notice your ending note in chapter 1 has been a wonky mess for MONTHS lol sorry).  
> Well, we're starting this mutual pining, slow burn mess and I mean it. Thank you so much for reading this, hope the plot (made of almost all my hcs after season 4) can hook you enough to stay around a few more chapters ;).
> 
> You can get in touch with me via [Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun)
> 
> Bai!


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey," said Lance.

"Hey," Keith replied, approaching him with something similar to caution.

The corridor was silent and he could feel his hair dripping a little on his back, as if counting the seconds.

“Hmm, can we... you got a moment? I know you were going to rest, but...” Lance looked embarrassed. A notorious contrast with his previous attitude.

“No... come in,” Keith said, not knowing very well how to react. Lance was the one who seemed most angry in the meeting room, so he didn’t know what to expect. And now he was making him enter his room. Was it a good idea?

The owner of the room entered first, and the other followed him. Keith heard the boy mutter "De...”.

“What?” he asked.

“Déja Vu,” said Lance, taking a look at the room and finally fixing his eyes on Keith. He gave a small sigh and ran a hand through his hair, as if choosing his words.

“Do you remember the last time I was here?” he asked.

“Yeah. You came to tell me that you learned how to count up to six,” replied Keith, smiling a little against his will.

Lance blushed.

“Ha-ha, very funny. Yep, it was that time. I came to say that it’d be best for the team if I stepped aside. You, as the leader, told me to leave the maths to Pidge.”

“I remember that,” said Keith.

“Well, what I’m trying to say is that... Actually, that was the day I realized that the team is important to you, Keith. You don’t like to show it, maybe, but I think we all know. Or it’s simply that I was the last one to understand, it wouldn’t be the first time...”

“What are you…?”

“No, wait. I'm rambling, but I'm going to get to the point. Wait.” Lance pricked the bridge of his nose, with his eyes closed for a moment, and then looked at him once more. The bath had weakened Keith's legs, apparently, because at that moment he felt a little unsteady. He was also consciously trying not to breathe very hard, for some reason. He was considering if he should sit down when Lance suddenly said:

“Man, forgive me. I shouldn’t have been so rude in the meeting room. I went overboard.”

It was definitely time to sit down, Keith thought, so, obeying the languor of his knees, he took a seat on the edge of his bed, his arms resting on his thighs, and he could not help sighing.

“Keith ...?” Lance looked at him, curious.

“It's nothing, Lance, it's fine. Well... sit down if you want,” Keith muttered, trying to make his voice come out normal.

Everything was strange, from Lance's behavior to his, and this situation, but in truth, nothing mattered: he was feeling relief above everything else. Lance's attitude in the meeting room had made him feel a chain of unpleasant sensations, which in addition to the horror they had just passed, had him a little disoriented. No one in the team seemed to be so pissed. No one avoided his eyes, except for the (actual) red paladin. Why was that so important to him, anyway? Since when did he care so much about Lance's attention? He had questioned himself in the bath and he still couldn’t understand it. It was as if his 'close to death' experience had exposed him, and suddenly everything, even the smallest thing, had the importance it never had before. And now he came to his territory with those eyes and some uncharacteristic apologies. What was happening? He looked at Lance's face and realized that he was still standing, surprised. Was it really that weird that he showed some manners?

 …He chose not to answer that question to himself.

“Really? Well, if you don’t mind...”

Lance sat down on the edge of the bed too, as if he wasn’t sure just how comfortable he should make himself. Keith felt an involuntary chuckle escape him.

“What?” Lance snapped.

“Nothing. It's okay, Lance. I know I worried all of you. I was worried too.”

“Yeah, we know. It's just that-- lately, we rarely see you. Sometimes we don’t know about you for weeks, and we start to wonder ‘How's Keith doing?’ ‘When will he contact us?’ ‘He’s alive, right?’" Lance's voice echoed in the austere room. Keith's eyes weighed, but the faint echo of his words sounded so low and private, such a nice ring to it...

Lance continued speaking while looking at some blank point on the front wall.

“Then, suddenly, we have this, like, super important mission. Everything is fine until we fall into the trap. Somehow, you realized, and of course you had to go to the rescue. And then... then... arrrgh!”

Lance ruffled his hair, as if the matter was driving him nuts. With half of his hair standing, he looked at Keith.

“It's scary, Keith. We don’t know what’s been going on with you these months, and when we have to work together, the first thing that happens is that you're about to crash yourself against a damn battlecruiser for the team. Yeah, I know, for ten solar systems, blah, blah, blah, I get it. But…”

“… but?” Keith could hear some ridiculous expectation in his own voice and decided that he would correct it.

“We.. _. I_  am worried. I worry that it becomes a habit. Is it normal for the Blade to do things like this? What if the next time we're not around? That's it. We don’t want you to forget that you  _must_  come back here, sooner or later. It's... just that.” concluded Lance. The speech seemed to have cost him a lot of effort because he looked just as downcast and ashamed as Keith felt.

They were quiet for a moment. Keith didn’t know what to answer, because he had a bunch of ideas running through his mind at the same time, while he was trying not to get distracted by looking at that damn lock of hair that was pointing up in Lance’s head.

Finally, he squeezed his eyes for a moment and then looked at him again, serious.

“Thanks, Lance. I haven’t forgotten. But I'm with the Blade because it's necessary, at least for now.”

“Necessary? Keith, I've been thinking...”

“That’s new.”

“Shut up man, let me finish,” Lance said, exasperated “I've been thinking... bah, I'll just ask. You didn’t leave just because Shiro came back, right? It wouldn't make sense that after what you said to me, you went away for the same reason... right? It'd be stupid…”

This time Keith was silent for a moment because he didn't want to answer. Lance's eyes widened with surprise.

“No way... Bullseye?”

“No,” Keith said quickly, “no, it's not like that. I mean... ahh...” he gave another sigh (how many already just in this conversation? Why did he feel so exhausted?) before adding:

“It was convenient at that moment.”

“Convenient? What's so good about leaving your team, Keith? We never understood your real motivation,” admitted Lance.

“I have a reason. Not that it's a secret, really, but ....it's ... embarrassing to explain it,” Keith confessed, feeling like he was sinking a little on his mattress.

“Come on, dude, I can’t think of a single thing that fits in the category of ‘embarrasing’ that could have something to do with the Blade of Marmora. Ever. You wanna talk about embarrassing, let’s talk about our first act of publicity, did you see any of those?”

Keith's face lit up for a moment.

“Yeah, I saw. They showed me later the one you did in the mall, there were members of the Blade there... It was the first one, I think?”

Lance gave a long groan.

“Awww, man, you saw the worst one!... Well, the worst after the one in the hospital... But I swear that the others were awesome!”

“Allura must have had the worst time ever, but I’m grateful for not having been in her place,” reflected Keith, thinking how mortified he’d had felt having to act. In front of crowds. Scary…

“Yeah, well, she was frowning and self-absorbed the whole time, I think she nailed the character.”

“Shut up.”

Lance's laugh was sincere and clear. It was also contagious, as Keith remembered what he saw, that feeling of shame and admiration to see the team in their characters. Shiro following the game was particularly shocking.

“I watched the closing act too. I don’t think there’s anyone in the radius of three galaxies who missed it, honestly...”

“Hoooo, did you see my grand entrance then? Amazing, huh?” Lance began to flex his arms and put on his ‘lover boy’ smile. Keith could not help but smile as well while feeling a strange tingling similar to shame somewhere around his abdomen area.

“Yeah, I saw it. Great leg work, by the way... where did you learn that?” Keith asked, as the tingling seemed to evolve into a pinch on his stomach as he recalled that image. And he remembered feeling very eager to cover the screen when Lance came on it at that time, while his fellow Blade companions also looked at it with open mouths, incredulous.

“Pro secret,” replied Lance, crossing his arms, and making an expert face, “and it would have been even better, if only Coran didn’t go crazy with the uhm... special effects. They ruined the grand finale. But don't mention it to him, it's kinda taboo around here.”

“I think it was impressive anyway,” said Keith.

“Thanks, I'll autograph your jacket later if you want,” joked Lance, making a gesture of shooting with his fingers, “but we are deviating from the topic. What’s the great secret, champ?”

Keith's smile vanished. Could he tell Lance, really? Somehow, having someone by his side in his room talking to him, worried about him, had dislodged him. He felt strange, as if he was free to talk about anything at that moment, for the first time in months. In that strange state of mind, he suddenly decided that there was no point in keeping quiet and making the matter look bigger than it was. Maybe it'd be good to tell someone.

He turned to the head of the bed and rested his knees on the mattress to stretch toward the bedside table, looking for something. He didn’t notice, but Lance quickly looked away. Keith took his Galra blade and returned to his original position.

“What happened?” he asked, noting that his guest was sitting very straight, looking at the front wall.

“N-nothing, I thought you'd open the drawer and didn’t wanna pry into your things,” Lance answered hurriedly, stuttering a bit.

“It's nothing that private.” Keith pointed at his blade.

“Oh... your galra knife?” Lance asked, interested.

“It’s a sword,” clarified Keith.

“Right, sorry.”

“Whatever. You see, this sword... well, it's... it's the only memento that my mother left me. And these swords are exclusive to the members of the Blade of Marmora...”

It seemed easier in his mind to say it but, suddenly, he realized he couldn’t speak. How weird. Was it really that difficult? Of course it was. He realized that it was the first time he was telling this to anyone. Wow, in his eighteen, almost nineteen years of life, it was the first time he was going to trust his story to someone else. And, of all people, that person was Lance.

“Keith, if it's something too personal...” Lance was worrying. He was probably making a weird face.

“No, it's okay.” With a rasping, Keith decided to continue. “It's about... about my mother. She left when I was very small. I must have had about two or three years, I’m not sure. And after that, my dad was never back to normal. As years passed, he went crazy doing calculations, looking at maps, and the sky. I only have vague memories of my mother, I don’t remember her face at all. I don’t have a single picture of her either.”

Lance was listening to him in respectful silence and, having started, it was easier to continue. In fact, he suddenly felt that words were tangling in his mouth, now trying to go out in torrent.

“My dad always said that my mother would come back, that she  _had_  to come back. I never knew why he was so sure, but over the years I assumed it had to do with his calculations. Everything had to do with astronomy, so I concluded that it had to be some kind of scientific fact. With the sky, maybe. Was she a scientist? A pilot? The old man never answered those questions. The sword’s material was one that I could never find in any books, so I took what seemed to be the best option...”

“The Garrison? Is that why you joined?” Lance asked.

“Yeah” replied Keith “But it wasn’t of any help. And when they expelled me, I went back to the last place where my father had lived. It was a cabin in the middle of the desert. It was actually close to the Garrison”

“The house where we were before discovering Blue?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, that one. It was full of papers and maps, so I decided to use them. He had moved there for a reason. I arrived at the location of the Lion, I was able to follow the trail to the power source. Every day I felt ... a calling. That's why I think most of the intel wasn’t created by my dad, he was a geologist, not an astronomer. My father's calculations had to do with Voltron, but obviously, he could never understand it.” said Keith.

“You think your mother left them?”

“Yes, and with them, he managed to get to the cave, just like us. The cave was full of inscriptions that spoke of an arrival, an event to occur. I think my father misunderstood them, he thought she left them as a warning or a promise to him. But it wasn’t her who returned that day.”

“Now I understand ... that's why you appeared there when Shiro’s ship fell...”

Keith nodded slowly. That day a ship crashed near the Garrison and, full of hope, he had violated military security, entered the facility and had run towards the pilot, but the one that had fallen from the sky wasn't his mother: it was Shiro. Surprised, he had decided to escape with him anyway.

“After I discovered that I am part galra, and that the swords are exclusive to the members of the Blade of Marmora, I understood that my mother must have been one of them. My father was a normal human, I'm sure of it.”

“A rebel Galra woman? And you don’t remember anything about her?” It was clear that Lance was wondering how a Galra could have a child with a human and go unnoticed.

“Honestly, no. But Kolivan was able to confirm me one thing,” said Keith, “many members have been considered lost in service, and among females, there is one that could have ended up in our solar system.”

“Seriously? How?” Lance asked, with true curiosity.

“An explorer, looking for safe points that were outside the Galra domain. The Galra had never reached our system, apparently. But we know it's possible, they arrived when we found Blue.”

“I know.”

“Well, this explorer was called Krolia. They never heard from her again. It’s known that she arrived at our galaxy at least a couple of years before I was born. It's her… most likely.”

“You don’t remember her name?” Lance asked, surprised.

“My father called her Light. I always thought that was her name,” replied Keith.

“And Kolivan thinks you can find her?”

“Not at all. They could never prove her death, but Kolivan is convinced that she died. But the possibility that she fell on Earth is high, and if so, for the Blade it’s important to know what happened. How could she get to the point of having a family? Even more, why would she leave that family, if it wasn’t to return to her mission? What would a part Galra individual do alone in a planet like ours, so primitive? Makes no sense.”

"’Part galra?’"

“Kolivan said that Krolia was a half-breed galra. Most members of the Blade are, since Galra have an obsession with the purity of blood, and that excludes them from the Empire, pushing them to the rebel groups. He doesn’t know anything else about her origin, the records say that her other race is indeterminate. They don’t really care that much.”

An awkward silence arose between the two boys. Keith was beginning to regret having told his story while the weight of the truth seemed to sink him bit by bit, when Lance spoke.

“Woah, Keith. Woah. It's... I understand now. Or I think I begin to understand. Do you expect to find her?”

“No...” Keith hesitated. Did he actually expect to find her? “Well, not exactly. It’s just, I'm sure she didn’t stay on Earth. Something happened, and if she was to be alive, it'd be because she was able to return to space. My father died waiting for her return, but all his calculations had to do with the Blue Lion in the end. She knew something. And she’s most likely dead, but if she's not...”

Again, silence. But, this time, Lance took a deep breath before speaking.

"I understand Keith, I won’t ask any more questions. But just tell me, sincerely ... did you go with them because Shiro was back?”

Keith took a moment to answer, but since he had been sincere until now, he decided to remain so.

“It wasn’t premeditated. It just seemed like things were flowing. Voltron would have an adequate leader, the leader it needs, and I could... take the chance.”

Lance was frowning, as if he was displeased with what he heard. But, suddenly, his expression changed and he stood up. He started pacing the room, before Keith's confused look.

“Lance?”

“Sorry. It's just that you reminded me of something else that I wanted to talk to you about. Right, I almost forgot and it has to be now, ‘cause I don’t know what other chance we’ll have to talk like this...  _in private_.”

For some reason, Keith blushed a little.

“What happened?” he asked, feeling a little embarrassed.

“It's about...” Lance looked almost paranoid. He looked at the corners of the room and then asked:

“Did you turn off all of your communicators?”

“Of course,” Keith said, irritated. “Do you think I was going to talk about my mother in a speaker?

Lance put a hand on his face.

“Right, right ... what an idiot.”

“Lance, seriously, what’s going on?”

“You're not gonna like this, Keith, and I know it, but I want to discuss it with you anyway,” mumbled Lance.

He squatted in front of Keith, and their eyes were about the same height. With concern, Keith looked down, directly into Lance's blue eyes, in which his restlessness could be read.

“It's about Shiro.”

“About Shiro?” Keith repeated, completely lost.

Lance pulled his face closer to Keith's, taking him by surprise, and began to speak in whispers.

“Keith, sorry for interrupting you and please don’t take it the wrong way, but I have to discuss it with you now that I can, just to be sure...”

“What happened?”

“Don’t misunderstand, don’t think that I... listen to me until the end first...” Lance whispered.

“Lance, speak louder. No one can hear you from the outside,” Keith told him, since he had to bend over to be able to hear him. And that position was... awkward. Lance looked toward the door, as if judging its thickness, and exhaled loudly.

“Alright, alright. Listen. There's something strange about Shiro's behavior,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I think even you may have noticed, because it's not been since you left, it's been since long before. I would say... that it’s since he came back... after coming back… again?” Lance muttered, confused by his own poor choice of words.

“Explain. I have no idea what you're rambling about.” The conversation was starting to irritate Keith.

“See? You got angry and I haven’t even started yet!" grumbled Lance.

“You haven’t said anything coherent...”

“Look, I'll give you an example. Remember when we had to decide between attacking the cargo ship that was carrying the teludav and the comet?”

“Yes...”

 “Shiro has always been the cautious type, right? Do you remember what he told us to do that time?”

Keith made an effort to remember.

“He said we had to lower the shield and deal with the consequences or something like that, I think,” he answered.

“I don’t know why, although it seemed the logical course of action, it came off... so strange. I felt as if that wasn’t an instruction from Shiro. In the end, your strategy worked ... although the comet managed to escape. But we saved the teludav. Well, if destroying it counts as saving it.” concluded Lance.

“I don’t see anything strange. After that he talked to me... and it was the usual,” Keith said, remembering Shiro's soft words and affable smile. ‘I'm proud of you’ he had said that time, after he expressed the doubts that tormented him about his own leadership, in the dim light of the observation deck, where they sometimes discussed issues that worried them.

Lance regarded Keith with an expression he could not decipher. Suddenly, he hugged his own knees.

“I know it's hard to understand, but I'm worried about him. Not only because his head always hurts, which is already very worrying, but I feel... I feel as if ... he doesn’t listen to us anymore,” Lance said in a discouraged voice. “Part of what happened today, believe it or not, could have been avoided.”

“How?” Keith asked.

“When the pillars of Naxzela began to rise, we could have gotten out of there. We were on the surface. I told Shiro we had to leave at once, but he insisted on staying on land watching... tell me, isn’t that strange?” Lance again was messing up his hair.

“But I’d also liked to know what the hell was going on,” Keith argued.

“Yeah, but not from the ground!” Lance retorted. “When we saw those things, we knew immediately that something was wrong. It could be anything. Lasers that sweep the surface, or a secret weapon ... Keith, I'm not the smartest in the group, and even I could see it. What I’m trying to say is, I think something has changed in Shiro’s train of thought, or something. Like… I don’t know, the trauma maybe. He’s far more reckless than before, and it's starting to scare me.” he concluded.

Keith considered it for a moment. Yes, put like that, it did not sound like a mistake Shiro would make. However, it was an acceptable mistake for anyone in such a sudden situation. He tried to think of other signs, but it was impossible: the image of Shiro giving him encouragement, thanking him, telling him that he was proud of him seemed to obliterate anything else. Shiro's leadership might not be perfect ... but it was much better than his. Could he even dare to criticize him?

The conclusion must have appeared on his face because Lance suddenly stood up.

“It's okay. I wanted to talk to you, because... Well, when you were the leader I could always tell you my opinion and I thought that maybe you, since... since you know him better...” Lance muttered, arranging his clothes.

“I…”

“No, no, Keith, is fine. Shiro is our leader, and I know that you-- seriously, forget it. I wanted a second opinion, that's all. It's not that serious, everything went well in the end.”

Lance headed for the door, but Keith was still irked by it.

“Lance, if you distrust Shiro, you should speak directly to him. This could affect the team” he said.

Lance looked at him, annoyed.

“Hey buddy, I do NOT distrust Shiro, and that’s why I’m this secretive, I don’t want anyone to think like that. But I can’t just casually go and tell him ‘hey Shiro, you don’t sound like yourself since you escaped the Galra for the second time, what's up man?’ That’s why I just wanted to talk to someone... but forget it, ok? It was a bad idea to bother you with this.” Lance opened the door. “I'll never do anything that harms the team. I just wanted to talk, I already did. I'll let you rest now.”

He was going through the door when he stopped and added:

“Oh, and I didn’t say it before, but... good luck in your search. And... thanks for trusting me, man.”

The door closed behind Lance, leaving Keith there, sitting, completely stunned.  _What the hell had just happened?_

He took off his boots and stretched out on the bed, but the fatigue seemed to have left him, replaced by a pile of intertwined thoughts. First, he was talking about his mother for the first time ever, a cathartic moment in his life, and suddenly they were talking about Shiro. Shiro, who did everything he could for the team, had taken the lead that he, Keith, could not keep. Shiro was proud of him. Shiro had been wrong. It didn’t seem possible, but Shiro was a mere human like them after all. Lance believed Shiro wasn’t himself. And what did he expect? Escaping for a second time from a Galra base should leave sequels in anyone, but there he was, standing, doing everything for the team.  _‘How many times are you gonna have to save me before this is over?’_

“As many times as it takes” Keith repeated in the dark, as he did that time. Then he looked to the side. Lance had been sitting there. Although the conversation had left a bitter taste towards the end, it had been important for him to talk about all those things. Why did he do it so freely, and also with Lance -THAT LANCE- McClain? Was it really that his loneliness after months with the Blade had made him susceptible to any sign of interest? This had to be the weirdest night of his life, and that included the time an alien princess recruited him to pilot a giant space lion.

He turned on the bed, feeling his face burn. Of all people he could have chosen to be his confidant, he picked Lance. It wasn’t that he had any particular problem with him. He knew that Lance could be a bit silly, frivolous and frustrating at times, but he had learned to trust him. However, what he had just done was ridiculous. He had put in the hands of a man who considered himself as his ‘rival’ (what the hell…) information that he could use against him if he wanted to. What had he been thinking? Now Lance knew his biggest concern, and although that had created a new communication between them, he suddenly felt so...  _naked_?

...

No, no, no. Bad choice of words. Nobody was naked in front of anyone, he thought, his face even more lit. He put his head under the pillow and, despite the chaos of his thoughts, the exhaustion finally overcame him and he fell asleep.

* * *

  
He didn’t know how many hours had passed when, suddenly, the Castle's communication system, which sounded in every room, startled him awake.

“Paladins, please, come to the bridge. It’s urgent.”

Keith jumped out of the bed, and it took him half a split second to decide whether to wear the paladin suit, or the Blade's. He opted for the second one.

Though he hurried, he was the last one to reach the bridge anyway, where Coran was trying to calm Allura, whose skin had now lost color. The other paladins were approaching her at full speed.

“What happened? Allura, you look sick” Hunk said.

“It's... I don't know where to start,” said Allura, scaring them all.

“It's Lotor's fault, right?” Pidge asked. As the others looked at her, confused, she added, “when we finished calibrating the security system, Allura and Shiro decided to go and question Lotor in his cell... and when they left, Shiro was going bonkers. I swear, I’ve never seen him that way before...”

Keith felt his blood descending to his feet, as he met Lance's gaze, who looked just as shocked.

“What happened to Shiro, where is he?” he asked, realizing that he wasn't there.

“H-he left. He took one of the ships and left. We don’t know exactly when,” babbled Allura, on the verge of tears.

“What do you mean 'he left'? Where?” Lance asked.

“What does Lotor have to do with this? Allura, what happened in there?” Keith questioned, in turn.

Allura couldn’t seem to find the words, so Coran spoke instead.

“Lotor said some things... We do not believe a word, of course, but for some reason, Shiro...”

Coran had not even finished speaking, but Keith had already turned around and was heading to the castle dungeons.

“No, Keith, come back!”

He didn’t listen. He felt the group's steps behind him, but he ignored them, and he ran. When he arrived in front of the cell, he realized that he didn’t know how to open it. The cell was a room very similar to the bedrooms, with the difference that it was much smaller, furnished with only a bed and a chair, and the wall facing the corridor was made of some kind of glass. Lotor was quietly sitting in the chair, staring at Keith from his position opposite the door.

“What did you do?!” Keith hit the door with fury.

Lotor, with a smile, put a hand to his ear, to signal that he couldn't hear him, and pointed his finger at the panel in front of the door. Keith looked at it and, with his fist, pressed one of the buttons.

“What did you do, Lotor?!” Keith yelled at him.

“Not much. There is not much to do here” said Lotor, his cunning voice coming through the panel.

“Shut up, jerk, what did you say to Shiro?!” Keith barked at him. The other paladins had appeared around the corner and were running towards them.

Lotor stood up and got closer to the glass. With a smirk and hands on his back, he leaned towards Keith, who could see his strange clear eyes, full of malice.

“I told him the truth he wanted to hear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I a #notmyShiro supporter? Yes.  
> Is Keith's mom important to this fic? Kinda.  
> Is Lotor important to this fic? Very.  
> Thanks for reading the second chapter, loves, I hope you liked it. As always, I'd really appreciate grammar corrections and any critiques you may have :). The third chapter will have some cliches that I love <3\. 
> 
> If you want to, you can find me in [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun)!


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the team had come stumbling just in time to hear Lotor speak.

“I just told him the truth he wanted to hear. No more, no less,” he said.

“And what’s that?” Keith growled.

“Keith, no. No one should talk to him. It's dangerous,” warned him Allura.

“Shiro would never leave without a good reason! I want to know what happened here!” Keith shouted.

“He left?” Lotor asked “That is bad news, indeed. I judged him smarter than that.”

Before Keith threw himself against the crystal or something like that, Pidge decided to press the audio button to silence Lotor. He made a gesture of disappointment but stood there looking at them with his strange smile.

“Allura, we need to know what this guy told you,” said Hunk, worried.

“Shouldn’t we be looking for Shiro first? Do you know when he left?” Lance asked.

“We know that within the last two hours he took one of our scout ships and left to an unknown destination. He turned off all communication and tracking systems. He could be anywhere by now," said Coran.

“Not anywhere, how far could he go in one of those?” said Lance “We could split and look for him with the Lions. Let's ask Captain Olia for help...”

“No. We can’t talk about this yet. If they found out that Shiro is gone...” Allura wrung her hands. She looked at Lotor, full of hatred.

“We have to know what he said first, to know where to start,” grunted Keith.

Everyone looked at the cell. Lotor was standing, looking at them with curious eyes. Allura went to the panel and switched on the communication.

“Oh, I think I missed the best part,” said Lotor.

“Listen to me, Lotor. Your lies do not convince us. Your attempts of sabotage will end in your death, believe me...” began to say Allura, with contained fury.

“Princess, once again you force me to explain that sabotaging you is not my intention,” replied Lotor. “On the contrary, the weaker you are, the more risk for me.”

 “What did you say to Shiro?” Keith asked again, angry.

“Have you not told them yet, Princess?” asked Lotor “You were here too.”

“You tried to get into the mind of one of our paladins with your lies, there's nothing to say,” she said.

“If your paladin thought it was a lie, he wouldn’t have left, right? I think he knows better than us the answer,” retorted Lotor.

“WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!” Keith could no longer control his voice. It was impossible for Shiro to do something as strange as to leave without an explanation. Even stranger than that was the fact that Allura seemed to assume the worst, and wasn’t even trying to bring him back right away… what in hell was happening?

Lotor looked at Keith and his uniform and smiled again.

“Ah... a member of the Blade of Marmora. Yes, this information is of interest to you and your people.”

The whole group looked at him with varying degrees of resentment. Far from worrying, Lotor seemed amused by the situation.

“I just revealed one of the Empire's greatest secrets, Princess. I hoped that this information would be useful, rather than problematic,” he taunted.

“Stop lying ...” Allura managed to say, but Lotor interrupted her with a wave of his hand.

“I told you. The experiments carried out by the Empire through its sorcerers are all based on some greater ‘good’ that most of us ignore. The ambition of my father knows no bounds, as well as that of his witch. If you think this is the only horror we face, you're painfully wrong,” he said.

“What has that to do with…?” Keith began to ask, but again Lotor made a gesture and continued talking.

“From the beginning, the expansion of the Empire was facilitated by many things. Even before the corruption of my father, our race spread at great speed thanks to the adaptability of its genetics, which is quite particular, as you should already know. It makes us compatible with all kinds of races that, at times, are incompatible with each other.”

Lotor's eyes went directly to Keith, who felt a chill on the back of his neck. Could it be that Lotor knew...?

The prince's gaze wandered back to the rest of the group, and he kept talking.

“The Empire degenerated through the millennia and now gives great importance to the purity of race. Our once stronger feature is now despised. It has turned the half-breed into pariahs, and all other races and species into mere pawns, targets that are there to be conquered. Have you thought about why all our systems are unlocked by genetic recognition? At first, it was a good idea. After all, the complexities of our bodies make it adaptable, and at the same time practically impossible to replicate. It is an almost infallible method to protect our secrets. And I say almost, because in time groups as the Blade arose, formed by rebel Galra. That was a possibility that my father failed to consider, as he has often does, because he never takes into account the perspectives of the individuals he submits. He is blind.”

Lotor started pacing in front of the glass, like a feline. The paladins listened attentively, despite Allura's warnings. She herself seemed absorbed in what he had to say.

“It’s been ten thousand deca-phoebs of my father’s reign. Even for the longevity of an average galra, that amount of time is unattainable by conventional methods. His dirty sorcerers have accompanied him for centuries, manipulating the quintessence for him, turning him into that shadow of himself that he is right now. His obsession with Voltron almost cost him his empire, but that did not matter. My father's goal is to go through other realities and subdue the entire universe under his hand. You must already know.”

The group observed him in silence, but it was true, they knew. And that's what they feared of his son too. And when they thought they had already stopped Zarkon...

“The quintessence is the key to everything, a full cycle. The obsession of my father and his sorcerers for it is what has caused all these millennia of war. But, even so, his obsession is nothing, nothing at all, compared to the obsession... of my mother.”

Keith wanted to know about Shiro, but for some reason, he couldn't stop listening to Lotor. He felt an inexplicable pressure in his head that increased after each word. A bad presage.

“I think you may have already noticed, but my face is not that of a pure galra,” said Lotor, “that is because I'm not. And, certainly, Daibazaal was not my home, but it could have been. Princess Allura, you must have already guessed.”

Allura looked at Lotor with her mouth open in surprise.

“No, it cannot be…”

“That's right, Princess. Ten thousand deca-phoebs ago my father had a wife, as you may remember. My mother was an Altean alchemist named Honerva. The first victim claimed by the quintessence but, unfortunately, not the last. Her life and our planet were consumed by it, and that was the beginning of my father's madness spiral,” concluded Lotor.

“That's impossible! In that case, you shouldn’t be here either! Also, we know that King Zarkon and Honerva never had children...” exclaimed Coran.

A bitter smile crossed Lotor's face.

“Oh, but they did. However, my mother's exposure to the quintessence complicated things quite a bit... Well, look at me here, telling you something so private,” said Lotor, with a fake affected voice.

“Cut it out. What are you trying to say?” Keith said. His mouth felt dry.

“The fact that I am here is due to a series of experiments that sorcerers and Galra scientists have been developing over centuries. My mother's obsessive work laid the foundations for the creation of all kinds of projects, and genetic experimentation is one, if not the biggest field of them all.”

“No...” Allura lost color again.

“I will repeat what I said to you and your paladin, Princess. Do you know why the Galra make their gladiators fight?” Lotor asked.

“Enough...”

“They entertain the people, certainly. It calms the thirst of the rabble, makes them see how all kinds of individuals, of all species and races, fight to be the strongest, uselessly, because we as Galra are always over them anyway. But the winner is cheered on by thousands... then, how come that no one hears about the champions ever again?”

Keith felt as if the floor were beginning to sink beneath his feet while his mind was spinning right to the dreaded conclusion at full speed.

“The champions are taken to laboratories where sorcerers and scientists experiment with them. They are the best of their species, the finest material to work with. The only reason why a champion could escape from a laboratory is that they have let him out _themselves_. Do you get it? There is no other reason. And if they let him out... it will never be for mere mercy. I saw your champion. His arm is not an ordinary experiment, it’s a piece of the druids, similar to the chimeras they have been sending you. Even I ignore their true intentions. But your paladin will always be a slave to my father's witch, whether you want to or not. He’s not the first, and won’t be the last one.”

_Shiro smiling, when he met him at the garrison. Keith had been the best pilot of his generation, so he would have the privilege of being guided by the best graduate. Shiro saying goodbye when he went to the mission from which he never returned. Shiro telling him he was proud. Shiro putting a palm on his shoulder, Shiro on the Black Lion, Shiro giving him a hug, the first one in years..._

It just couldn’t be. A Galra puppet would never... As in dreams, Keith looked at the faces of his companions, and in all of them, he could see the reflection of his own consternation. Nobody seemed to be able to talk.

“W-Wait ... Are you trying to say ... that Shiro is a spy of the Galra?” Pidge stuttered.

“As I said, I do not know the intentions of those damn sorcerers myself. I suppose it's a possibility, and as such, the fact that he ran away is a problem,” answered Lotor.

“SHIRO DIDN’T RUN AWAY” Keith roared. He trembled from head to toe. “Shiro is NOT a spy, nor a slave. He managed to overcome Zarkon's manipulation when he tried to take away the Black Lion. He escaped from the Empire twice... how ... even...”

“Keith, we know...” Hunk tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but Keith pushed it off.

“It doesn’t matter what you say, Lotor. Zarkon fought Shiro for the Black Lion, and even then he couldn’t take it away from him. If he was a... an... experiment, he could have stolen it anytime.”

“That's true, Shiro sacrificed everything to not give the Black Lion to Zarkon,” said Pidge, pale.

“I do not have details about every little thing that my father does, nor his disgusting witch,” said Lotor with indifference, “I only tried to explain the magnitude and depravity of his druid’s methods. And... I know better than anyone how it is to be in their hands.”

“Enough. You will not sow doubt among us. Not anymore, Lotor,” said Allura strictly, cutting off the communication.

Keith saw Lotor shrug and mutter ‘you're welcome’ before returning to his chair. The paladins just stood there, looking at each other, until Allura told them to go back to the bridge, to think of a plan of action.

They had lost precious time listening to Lotor's lies for nothing. Keith felt a blind fury inside him that didn’t let him think clearly. How could Shiro give credit to Lotor's crap? What was happening in his head right now? Where could he have gone under these circumstances?

The answer came on its own when they reached the bridge. They had a pending message from the rebels, received a few minutes ago. Pidge returned it instantly: Matt's concerned face appeared on the screen.

“Finally,” he said, worried. “I’ve been trying to communicate for a while, I think this is important.”

“What is it, Matt?”  Pidge asked.

Matt looked around, as if afraid to be heard.

“Well... Shiro was here,” he said.

“Shiro?!” they all exclaimed in unison. Matt's eyes widened.

“I knew it! Yes, he was here and he wasn’t looking well. He said he came to check on our state, and that all of you were doing the same. But he seemed... he seemed out of sorts,” explained Matt.

“Where did he go?” Keith asked, feeling a note of despair in his voice.

“I don’t know. He talked to me in... in private.” Matt seemed shocked. “He asked me questions about our time as prisoners. About our past, the mission... Many things. Then he said he had to come back. He said goodbye to me...”

Matt blushed a little. The crew was absolutely lost.

“It was strange. I’d never distrust him, but I decided to ask the other squads if the paladins had visited them... and they said no. So I decided to ask you directly. What happened?”

Nobody knew what to answer. Allura rested her face on the palms of her hand, desperate. Lance and Hunk leaned back in their seats, dejected. Coran’s sad profile seemed lonely without Shiro's presence by his side.

“Matt... can you keep it a secret? Please," asked Pidge.

“Pidge, you're scaring me...”

“Listen Matt, we need all the information you have. If you have data of the course of the ship, the exact time, anything. How long ago was this?"

“About an hour ago,” Matt replied, and the team exhaled again, desperate.

“Maybe we're still on time. The ship is not that fast...” Pidge tried not to sound completely discouraged.

“Seriously guys, what’s going on? Did something bad happen?” Matt seemed more scared at every moment.

“We can’t give you details, but we need your help. In secret. We need to find him,” his sister admitted.

“Fine, I'll do what I can. But I'm waiting for answers, Pidge, I don’t understand anything," said Matt.

“It’s just… sorry, we’ll explain soon. I promise,” said Pidge.

When they cut the call, the group was in absolute silence for several minutes. Finally, Allura addressed everyone.

“This situation is one of the worst scenarios we could face. Without Shiro we are adrift and, in addition, we will not be able to form Voltron. If our allies find out, it will be a serious blow to the Coalition's morale and safety...”

Allura's eyes went to Keith, and he knew what was coming.

“Keith...” she began to say.

“No. Impossible,” he interrupted.

“Keith, please...”

“Allura, it's not just about Voltron. Not only the Black Lion chose Shiro, he is your leader. Nobody can replace him, and you know it; our only option is to find him,” Keith hastened to say.

“We won’t stop looking for him, Keith. But, as before, we can’t afford to be without Voltron,” she countered.

“Is that all you care about? To form Voltron? What about what Shiro must be going through?” said Keith, angry.

“Keith, we all appreciate Shiro here,” said the princess, desperate.

“But we're not looking for him now, right?” he replied sharply.

“If we do not know where to start, we will only alarm our allies,” said Coran, looking at the map, “a small ship is harder to track than a Lion. We need to think about possible courses of action.”

“None of this sounds like something Shiro would ever do,” Hunk intervened, devastated. “Leaving like this only because Lotor said some weird things? Without saying anything? Something’s really wrong with him.”

Keith could feel Lance's eyes, but he ignored them.

“He must have a good reason. I bet he believes he's putting us in danger, even though it's not true," Keith said.

“I think the same. But, in that case, what he’ll do is hide and not communicate with us until he dispels his doubts. I would do that in his place,” Pidge asserted while looking at her screen with sad eyes, hoping for an answer to appear.

“The most important thing is that he doesn’t fall into Galra hands again... You don’t think that ... he could... go and look for answers there?” Hunk asked.

“Hunk!” Pidge yelled, “We're being serious here!”

“And I'm serious! Though I don’t know where ‘there’ would exactly be. Could he… try and go back to the place where they had him? … Does anyone even know where is that?” Hunk asked.

The crew seemed to freeze under the possibility. Then Lance spoke.

“We must trust Shiro. After all, we know him. If he left, he must have a good reason, and he’d never do anything to harm us.”

Keith felt an inexplicable rage when he heard Lance. Hadn’t been HIM the one who distrusted Shiro in the first place? Maybe Shiro knew, and that was why he decided to leave...

He turned around, and the team stared at him. Allura ventured to ask:

“Where…?”

“To find Shiro,” said Keith.

“You can’t, Keith! We need you here.” Allura's voice hardened.

“Shiro needs us!” Keith exclaimed. How could they not understand it?

“Keith, if Shiro left, I'm sure it's because he expects you to be here. If you go after him, you won’t help him at all," said Lance.

He felt his chest burning with hate.

“You're the happiest with this, right?”

“What?” Lance's face paled.

“You distrusted Shiro. You were right. Congratulations, Lance.”

“I never distrusted Shiro! How can you… I was worried about him! Keith, come back here! Damn it...”

Keith was already down the hall, on the way to the take-off area, where his Blade ship was waiting for him. He sat without delay and put on the paladin's helmet. He felt the strange contrast of the helmet with the Blade’s uniform he was wearing. He turned on the comm.

“Oh, Keith?” Pidge's voice rang in his ear.

“I'll scout the rebel’s sector. The Lions are faster, you all should do the same,” commanded Keith, categorically. He cut his line, but before he could hear Allura answer:

“Okay, Keith. We will.”

‘Too late’ he thought, but he was going to try anyway.

* * *

  
They spent several hours scouring the surrounding areas, but there were no signs of Shiro.

Keith was the first one to leave, and the last one to return, completely defeated. In sullen silence, he listened to Allura who, in her habitual pragmatic way, gave orders to her depressed crew. It was clear that Shiro didn’t want to be found for the time being, and ask their allies to look for him would be like shooting themselves in their feet. The only option left, as the princess pointed out, was to have faith in their leader and wait for Shiro to communicate with them by his own will. For now, they would keep the secret, but Keith had to try to reconnect with the Black Lion as soon as possible. Voltron could be necessary at any time after the attack. The situation was critical.

The only ones who were informed about it were Matt and, just a bit, Kolivan, whom Allura contacted to talk about Keith's circumstances. Although they didn’t give him any explanations, the leader of the Blade had no objections, and offered to help in whatever they might need. The Princess thanked him and asked for any information regarding Galra labs and manipulation of the champions they could obtain. If Kolivan was surprised by the request, he disguised it very well, because without changing his expression, he only said ‘understood’. He wished Keith good luck and said goodbye.

All paladins were exhausted and sad. What would be a night of celebration, had become a long nightmare from which they hadn’t been able to wake up, they thought while they nibbled on the food that Hunk had prepared hours ago. The future of the team was uncertain, and Shiro's actions still seemed impossible to decipher. Seeing everyone's faces, Coran spoke.

“Paladins, misfortune has hit us, it's true. We will have difficult days ahead, but we must not forget that the Voltron team's duty is to give people hope. How will we give hope to someone in this state? I beg you all to rest while you can. We don’t know what will happen, so we must occupy the hours we can in preparing ourselves for whatever comes,” he concluded.

In silence, the paladins nodded and went to their rooms, while Coran encouraged them as they passed.

“Come on, cheer up! We must believe in Shiro! And in ourselves!”

Keith knew the right thing to do was to go to the Black Lion's hangar and try to reconnect with it, but he didn’t feel capable. He just couldn’t go. He couldn’t stay put in his room either. He took off his uniform again, put on his clothes, and left. The silence seemed to crush him. Without thinking too much, his feet took him to the only place where he wanted to be: the observation deck. The space that was exactly above the bridge and where, among the soft lights of the walls and panels, the stars could be clearly seen through the crystal, and where Shiro had once said that he was proud of him.

The room was dimly lit that day. He sat on the floor in front of the framed view, leaning on the edge and looking at the stars, feeling miserable. Why was this happening? Everything was going so well...

_Lotor._

The hatred and antipathy that Keith felt for Lotor threatened to overflow. Knowing that they had him on board was making him mad. However, a lot of Lotor's story made sense. He realized that, in his anger, he had missed something important: how was it that Lotor claimed to have been born more than ten thousand years ago?

‘Liar’ thought Keith, banging his fist on the floor. But... What if it was true? And why did he feel that uneasiness when Lotor spoke about the Galra genes? Did he somehow know that he was part galra? _‘It's more what we ignore than what we know’,_ that's what Shiro had said, and he was right. But then when some answers came, he was the first one to leave...

The questions were making him dizzy. He wanted to shut them up, but more than anything, he wanted Shiro to communicate with them and tell them he was okay. That would be enough.

The door opened at the other end of the room and Keith jumped while looking back. Lance's silhouette appeared in the doorway, so he turned his back on him. What was he doing there? He could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer, until he stopped behind him.

“I thought you could be here,” said Lance.

“And what do you want?” Keith snapped.

He thought Lance would get angry and give him an excuse to fight someone, but no. Instead, he sat next to him, at a respectful distance. Maybe he was afraid that he could punch him.

“Man, it was a misunderstanding. I never mistrusted Shiro... Keith, please listen to me at least,” asked Lance, seeing that he was about to stand up. Keith crossed his arms and continued to look ahead, the stars softly illuminating the room in conjunction with the panel lights. Lance sighed.

“Seriously Keith, you have to believe me. The only reason I dared to talk to you about Shiro is that I know you're the one who knows him best. And I’d never, I repeat: NEVER, think badly of him,” explained Lance.

“But you thought he wasn’t behaving like himself,” Keith replied.

“Yeah, but not literally! I was wondering if he needed a break or something," Lance exclaimed, shrugging. He put his hands on his knees and began to sway slightly.

“Honestly ... I came to think that maybe he needed _you,_ ” he acknowledged, timidly.

Keith looked at him for the first time since he had entered. The dim light of the stars and the window allowed him to distinguish his features and silhouette against the darkness. He looked pale, worried, tired... sad. Suddenly, Keith felt like a jerk.

“Need me? He doesn’t need me.”

“Yes, he does. You’re part of the team, you’re a good paladin, a good pilot.”

“You all are too.”

“You know what I'm talking about, it's more than that.”

“I always kept working for you, even with the Blade, I never actually left...”

“Maybe I need you.”

Even in the dim light, Keith could see how Lance's cheeks lit up little by little, and surprised by what he had just said, he put a hand to his forehead.

“Oh no ... oh no, no, that came out so corny, can I open this hatch? I think I wanna jump…”

Keith wanted to say something intelligent, a sharp comment, take the chance to laugh at that slip of tongue, but discovered that his voice didn’t come out. He tried again, but there was something stuck in his throat. And it was climbing dangerously to his eyes... he looked down, in panic. Almost as much panic as Lance seemed to feel.

“What I meant is that-- damn I really need a restart button here to start again, but really... what I mean is that I-- I mean you-- aaaahhh...” Lance's sigh seemed to fill the whole room. He lowered his head, and then lifted it violently, slapping his knees with the palms of his hands, resolved.

“Okay, enough, it's simple. Keith, I shouldn’t have to explain this, but we both know that we didn’t start off with the right foot. Not only were we rivals, but you’re also stubborn, gloomy and impulsive...”

The knot seemed to give in a little and the vein on Keith's temple seemed to come back to life...

“... and even though all that, you led us. You didn’t want to, but you accepted it. Sometimes you didn’t pay attention, and you followed your instinct, which almost never ends well. Uhm, never, actually. But despite all that, despite all our fights, and as stubborn as you are, I never felt you didn’t _hear me_. You may have done crazy things, but you listened. That’s something I can only say about you. Shiro is my idol, you know that, but... but with you it's different. I think it's because in the end we finally became, after all this time... good friends, right? And that makes all the difference,” Lance barely finished, with a thread of voice.

Friends. Good friends. Keith never had friends before living in the Castle.ship In fact, he hadn’t even had a proper family to begin with. His mother had abandoned him, and that's how he felt all his life: abandoned. With her, she took away his father’s sanity. Shiro was the first person who aroused some interest in his life, and the first one to earn his respect: at the Garrison he followed him whenever he could, but since he was older, and a star pilot, he never dared to consider himself his friend. Rather, he felt like an annoying moth following the brightest light, but that Shiro was too kind to crush. When the mission to Kerberos was lost, and then with the news of his father's death, Keith felt completely lost... and alone. He lost all motivation. His erratic behavior, that well deserved punch he gave Iverson, caused him to be expelled. He spent month after month in that desert house, clinging to his sanity only because he didn’t want to end up like his father, going out to run in his hoverbike through the desert, free and in total solitude. Only the fixed idea that something would happen on the predicted date kept him alive...

And then, the big day arrived and with it, a Big Bang. Shiro had returned. He didn’t expect it, but he was glad, and tried to take him away. The guys appeared. The lions, the Castle, the Alteans. Voltron. The Blade, the mystery of his mother and the entire universe to be saved. In between, a new life he was not used to: company, laughter, group hugs. Scolding and fights, voices when getting up, and when going to bed. A loving hand on the shoulder, a kind advice.

And suddenly he was here, lost in a dark place, but not alone like before. The lights of a galaxy far from Earth illuminating the silhouette of a thin boy, the stars reflecting in a pair of blue eyes that looked at him with expectation and shame. A friend. A good friend. A…

The knot had returned, and this time the threat was surpassing him, wetting his eyes. Desperate, he hugged his stomach, clutching his jacket so hard that his knuckles turned white. He lowered his head, so he couldn’t see Lance's expression, which must have been pure horror. He suppressed with all his body what seemed to try to burst from his chest...

Darkness. Keith blinked quickly, and it took him a few seconds to understand what had happened. Lance had taken off his own hoodie and put him over his head covering him, in silence. Keith could see nothing, but the jacket was warm, and it smelled of something comforting: a mixture of perfume and something that reminded him of the distant smell of the sea, which he had not smelled since he was a child. He felt every fiber of the body stretch out in relief, as if he were back in the tub of hot water. He immediately wiped his wet eyes and cheeks in two quick movements, taking advantage of the fact that his arms were also covered, and waited to see if Lance's footsteps were going away, convinced that he would leave, trying to forget that he had seen the most shameful episode in the history of the known universe. He was thinking about how he would return the jacket without the floor swallowing him, when he heard Lance move, but he didn’t stand up. Their knees brushed: he had moved closer and, by the sound, Keith realized that he had only turned to support his back under the window. He was _waiting._

Keith didn’t know what to do. The minutes passed, and he just remained quiet without knowing what to do, or say. He knew that Lance didn’t know what to say either, probably, but he wasn’t leaving. Why wasn’t he leaving? At least the confusion had cut off the outburst. Instead of a knot in his throat, the knot had fallen as if it were a lump of lead directly into his stomach, which was also filled again with something that tickled him. The smell of the jacket made everything difficult, it seemed to be there to not let him think, as if inviting him to take a nap, or to do something...

_Something like what…?_

A snore made him jump again, and the jacket slipped from his face. With clumsy hands he held it up to cover his nose, but he could see that, beside him with his neck bent and his chin on his chest, Lance had fallen asleep.

He felt the coolness of the room on his cheeks, lit by the warmth of his own breath inside the thick fabric of the jacket, and he struggled with a sudden urge to laugh. How many emotions had he gone through in half an hour? But there was no time to lose, it was his only chance.

With great care and some guilt, he softly put the jacket on Lance’s side, praying to not wake him up. He didn’t even move. Silently, he left the room as quickly as he could and, being outside, he ran off to his room, hoping that the sleeping paladin would not spend all night in that cold place, as he felt a swarm of new emotions buzzing somewhere near his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I heard you like cliches? lol.  
> Next chapter will be on Lance's POV. Btw, I imagine the cells like the ones in the Thor movie. Actually, Loki and Lotor could be twins if you ask me lol.
> 
> You can find me procrastinating on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun)
> 
> Thanks for reading, loves!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Lance's POV. I struggled a bit with the translation, if you find it awkward, please let me know. I hope you enjoy it anyway :).

Startled, Lance woke up in the dim light of the observation deck, when his body had threatened to slide to one side. It took him a few minutes to understand where he was and what had happened. He looked around and saw his jacket on the floor next to him. He realized that he was cold; the room was one of those that didn’t have much light or much heating in the Castle. But the chill that ran down his back probably had nothing to do with the temperature.

He struggled a bit to stand up, numb. He stretched out his arms while wondering how much time had passed since Keith had left. It hadn’t been very kind of him to leave him asleep in that freezer, but he could understand why. Surely the poor guy was so embarrassed that he took the first chance he saw to flee and hide. And he had given him that chance, he thought angrily. How could he fall asleep at that moment?! The silence, darkness, weariness, and waiting had won him over. They even had overcome the expectation that he felt to see how Keith would react next. What face would he show if he took off the jacket? Would he be crying? Or just angry? Maybe he just wanted a hug. Oh jeez, he was just too stunned to consider it, it had never occurred to him that something like that could be possible. The image of Keith looking vulnerable was burned into his mind, though it seemed unreal. Seriously, _how the hell could he fall asleep_?

His own sneeze brought him back to reality. He put on his hoodie and went to the door, rubbing his nose as he considered, a bit guilty, that it might have been a bad idea to cover him. Keith, by nature, hid everything, and in a situation where he had nowhere to run, he himself had given him a makeshift hideout. Why? Old habits die hard. One of his older brothers always did that to him, and then he did it for his nephews sometimes... ah, his nephews. How big could they be by now?  Children grew so fast...

"No, not there," Lance thought quickly. Every time he thought about his family he would fall into a pit of nostalgia and longing and then struggle for a while to go out so, despite himself, he avoided it with all his might. The first weeks had been the most anguishing. One day he was in class, and the next he was at an alien castle, galaxies away, with zero chance of returning. He had tried. A few weeks after what happened, he had armed himself with courage and had talked with Allura, in private.

“Couldn’t we make a small detour and return to Earth for a moment? I just need... it’s just, my family should know that I'm fine," he had said, embarrassed.

Allura's gentle eyes looked at him with a mixture of guilt, sadness, and pity.

“Please forgive me, Lance. Your planet is too far away, and all paladins must stay together. Also, I'm afraid they'll follow us. The fact that all the paladins are human probably hasn’t gone unnoticed by the Empire... for now, the farther away we are from your planet... the better.”

Lance looked at the ground, angry but resigned. He felt so much despair when he imagined his mother crying, probably day and night, thinking about him, about what had happened, while the army and perhaps even the government tried to find out everything. But even worse was the idea of a Galra cruiser flying through Varadero’s blue skies, shooting...

“I'm really sorry, Lance,” Allura had said, putting a soft hand on his arm, “I dragged all of you into this, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to let you go...”

“No, no... it's fine,” Lance replied, trying to smile. “I understand what you say. It’s true. They’ll be safer the farther away we are from them.”

“Yes. The Galra were there once already looking for Voltron. But with the help of our new 'allies' we have expanded the scan radius, if something happened... we would know already. Don’t worry,” concluded Allura, trying to cheer him up. By that moment they had just obtained the cooperation of the Blade of Marmora. But, contrary to her intentions, the idea disturbed him even more, and for many weeks he had nightmares about the Galra attacking Earth. He still had them from time to time.

Sometimes, together with Pidge and Hunk, they looked at the distant dot that was their solar system on the galactic map. They looked at it in silence, each one of them thinking of those they had left behind. Pidge's mother, for example, who had been left completely alone thinking that all her family was lost in space, or Hunk's brothers, who also had children. The real collapse was the day when, by a casual comment from Hunk, they decided to do some calculating and discovered that summer vacation had already begun for the students of the Galaxy Garrison. Being interned was one thing, but being in space... that day the three had shed a few tears thinking about their families. Keith had not been present, nor had Shiro. Only Coran, who found them there, huddled in their seats with bright eyes and ended up so affected by their melancholy, that the other three had to end up comforting him. Finally, they had ended up hugging him, between laughter and a bit of snot.

Lance remembered that moment with affection, because it was the outburst that allowed him to move on, and months had passed since that. The three had confessed how hard it was to continue in the mission, it helped them to bond a little as teammates and it also had allowed them to feel less... alone. But Keith, the lone wolf, hadn’t been there. Lance thought about him at that moment, if there was someone waiting for him, or if he missed his home. It seemed impossible to approach that strange boy he had declared as his rival, with his iron wall protecting his past and his feelings, but he was curious. He was always curious, ever since they met at the Garrison and Lance tried to talk to him, but was coldly ignored.

And suddenly, after so much time, he had received an unexpected response. In the privacy of his own room, Keith had opened the wall a bit exclusively for him to show some pieces of his past. A very tragic past, thought Lance. He imagined what it was like to grow up abandoned by his mother. In each space of his memories where a warm embrace with floral scent had enveloped him, a void. Instead of every scrape of dad's beard on his cheek, a crazy father doing calculations, waiting for something that would never come.

He had to stop in the hallway and lean a moment on the wall, surpassed. Why the hell was he so good at imagining these things? Was it for watching too many _telenovelas_ with his sister as a child? Little steps startled him, and Pidge appeared around the corner, in pajamas and disheveled.

“Hey, Lance, what's up?” she asked. Up close, she looked a little haggard.

“Hey, Pidge, nothing... just a night walk,” said Lance.

“Me too. I've been trying to sleep for two hours and I can’t. But I don’t wanna get engrossed in work, or I won’t sleep at all. If I didn’t fear Coran's experiments, I would ask him for something to sleep, honestly...”

Suddenly, Pidge noticed Lance's clothes, and her eyes narrowed a little.

“You haven’t put on your pajamas?” she asked.

“Oh, well... uhm, no. Not yet,” replied Lance.

“Hmmm...”

For some reason, Lance was getting nervous. Pidge's inquisitive gaze was always to be feared. But if he hadn’t done anything wrong, there was no reason to be nervous...

“You know who else was walking around?” Pidge asked suddenly. Lance held his breath.

“…Allura. She told me that she urgently needed a milkshake. I would hide if I were you, if she catches you, you’ll have to do a night milking to Kaltenecker... What's up?”

“No... nothing...”

Lance had blushed. He was sure Pidge would say ‘Keith’. What the hell was going on with him and his nerves?

Pidge yawned, but Lance could see that her eyes hadn’t lost their undecipherable expression.

“Ok, then. We don’t have much time left to sleep, I better try again. Night.”

“Night. See ya,” said Lance, still red.

Their bedrooms were on opposite wings, so they walked past each other. Lance felt very stupid. Even if Pidge had discovered that he and Keith had been on the observation deck, what was wrong with that? Wouldn’t it have been more shocking to have been alone with Allura, or something like that? Keith was not a girl for the rest to… suspect...

Suspect _what_? The horror he felt when Matt said "Keith was about to die"? Or how his heart had throbbed when he saw Keith enter the meeting room along with the members of the Blade, safe and whole, so much that he decided not to look at him anymore, annoyed and equally relieved? Or maybe the stitch he felt in his stomach when Keith appeared down the hall, his dark hair wet, falling on his shoulders and his handsome face shocked... Or worse, the stitch near the navel he felt when Keith was in his bed and turned his back to him... more than just his back...

One, two, three slaps on the forehead. Enough, enough, enough. Really? Among so many things that were happening, was he going to dedicate time to this? In the context of living in group, many embarrassing things happened every day, such as when he opened the toilet door and Hunk was inside, or when he unintentionally spilled a glass on Allura's chest. Nothing was worse than that. Casually and unwillingly checking a teammate's ass? Mild offense, at most.

When he was close to his room, he stopped and looked down the corridor. A few doors away was Keith’s room. Could he be inside? What if he knocked…

No. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the ‘episode’, but he judged it a bad move to go and bother Keith at that moment. Better wait until morning. He finally entered his room, and almost tripped over the game console and the gadgets he had installed to make it work, and then a box. Tiding was not his forte. Cursing, he finally reached the bed. While he was taking off his clothes, he concluded that he shouldn’t be so agitated: it was just that everything was new and that made it shocking. They didn’t see Keith in person for at least three months and gradually could speak less and less with him via comm. They were all very busy. So, it was strange to be suddenly in his presence, in his room, seeing him so natural and relaxed. He compared it with his memories from the Garrison: Keith didn’t talk more than was necessary with anyone, and everyone would gossip behind his back that he was only interested in powerful people, like Shiro. He had seen him smiling only once, and it had been in his company. Lance hated Keith since the first day, when he tried to talk to him and was completely ignored. Something like that had never happened to him before, so Keith's cold gaze had been a shock. To make matters worse, Keith turned out to be the best pilot of their generation. Disgust evolved to the point where he considered him his rival, and his greatest ambition was to surpass him. Lance was obsessed. The frustration he felt after they had assigned him as a cargo pilot became triumph when he was moved to the battle pilot course, and then it was pricked like a balloon when he heard that he had the place because they had expelled Keith and that opened a slot. His rival was not there, and he simply took his place. It sucked. The unidentified void in his heart wouldn't disappear.

But now all of that was in the past, Lance thought as he stretched out on the bed and wrapped himself up. In Keith, he had discovered a complex person, difficult to understand and awkward, but full of good intentions. As a leader, he was impulsive and impatient, but he cared about his people. He had a naive side, and a playful one too. The best thing about him was that, despite his talents, he never wished to be a leader, and that was precisely the best quality to lead. It was in his nature, nothing to do against it, and Lance understood that the Black Lion knew it from the beginning and taught him a lesson of humility by not choosing him. Instead, from the Red Lion, he had the opportunity to feel like... the right-hand man, the one who advised the leader, and the leader actually listened to him. Unexpectedly, he had liked it a lot. He felt that he had finally found his place. That's why when Keith left and Shiro resumed leadership, he felt a little lost again.

Maybe that was why that night he told Keith that he considered him a good friend. It wasn’t something planned, he just realized it there. The months that Keith was away helped him understand that he missed both his leadership and the guy himself. Yes, he had missed him, with his mullet and his bad temper and everything. Then they had fought, and he had apologized, and then they had fought again, and he had apologized. Twice in a day. Wasn’t it a bit too much? Maybe it wasn’t so bad to know that Keith would be embarrassed to meet him the next morning, he thought with an involuntary smile. His vulnerable face shouldn’t make him smile, but it provoked in him an irresistible electric sensation...

Then he remembered Shiro's situation, and his smile disappeared. He turned to the wall, feeling guilty for having such vain thoughts while Shiro was suffering so much. And just when sleep was taking over him again, he thought that the tears he had covered hadn’t really been for him, they weren’t emotion tears but pure sadness, and if Shiro was suffering, Keith would too, because for Keith, Shiro was more than a teammate, more than a leader and maybe more than a friend... Shiro was...

His mind went out, and he was seized by restless sleep, full of disconnected images.

* * *

  
He woke up in the morning feeling anxiety similar to Christmas morning. He did his usual routine and went to the dining room where they shared the meals as a group. But, when he was about to arrive, suddenly the anxiety went from being positive to uncomfortable. What would he say to Keith? Would he act natural, ignoring what had happened? Or could he joke subtly, to provoke him juuuust a bit, to see his reaction? Maybe to do that in front of everyone would be of poor taste. It’d be better to reserve it for another time, a secret between the two of them. In all honesty, he thought, in spite of how tempting it was to test the poor guy, he didn’t want anyone else to see that side of him. It was something personal that couldn’t be given away. He _earned_ it...

The only thing he achieved by thinking all that nonsense was to arrive at the room feeling already ashamed, but as he entered, all his ideas crashed. Keith wasn’t there. Only Hunk, Pidge and Allura were there, who greeted him with little enthusiasm. Lance looked at the dining room a moment longer and approached his usual place.

“If you wonder where’s Keith, he went out again to look for Shiro. I think he went to visit Matt,” said Pidge, making the hair on the back of his neck rise.

“I didn’t ask, but thanks anyway Pidgy,” he replied, sitting at the table in a bad mood.

“Hmph, you're welcome Lancey Lance,” replied Pidge, irritated.

“Wow, someone didn’t sleep very well, apparently,” said Hunk, passing him a plate.

“Nobody can sleep well under these circumstances.” Allura had deep dark circles under her eyes, and her face radiated concern. Lance wanted to say something to lift her spirits, but nothing came to mind. He decided to leave the bad mood aside, to not make things worse, and swallow the... disappointment that he felt for not having found Keith there. He really wanted to see his reaction. What face would he make? Again and again, he imagined Keith with bright eyes, gazing at him...

He was thinking about that when Coran came in like a hurricane and sat down abruptly at the table. The other four looked at him perplexed.

“I swear, during all my deca-phoebs in the service of King Alfor I dealt with all kinds of criminals and scoundrels, and none, I repeat, NONE of them was so rude, ungrateful, insufferable, vain..."

“Are you talking about Lotor?” Hunk asked.

“Who else?!” exclaimed Coran, hitting the table with both hands. “So shameless, instead of thanking me for taking him something to eat instead of letting him starve to death, he goes and asks me if I missed the vrefer’s stable, that this isn’t even edible...”

Pidge spat some of her breakfast, but Hunk joined Coran's indignation.

“For a Prince he sure has awful manners. Well, too bad, he'll have to settle for the green goo for as long as we have him here then,” Hunk decreed, tapping his plate with the spoon.

“Have you decided how long that’ll be, Allura?” Lance asked.

The Princess let out a tired sigh.

“I… don’t know. The plan was to conduct a series of interrogations on different topics and then decide what to do with him. But we don’t even know whether to trust the things he says, and he already did this damage to the team with only one chance...”

“Today we’ll dedicate to study his ship together with Hunk. If we check it inside we may discover what he planned to do with it... he must have built it for a reason, and maybe we can find out without having to asking him,” said Pidge.

“Splendid, I appreciate it. I just hope we do not have any emergency that forces us to call Voltron. We'll have to make an appearance soon anyway, people are waiting for a big announcement...” Allura sighed again.

All of Coran's anger disappeared when he saw his princess in that deplorable state.

“Princess, why don’t you take the day off? You’ve already gone through a lot... we can take care of today's affairs on our own.”

“I don’t know, Coran... the allies will call…”

“You should do it, Allura. Look, even the mice came to protest.” Hunk pointed at the corner of the table, where Platt and company were climbing.

At the insistence of the team, Allura ended up accepting. Lance offered her a milkshake and he finally made her smile. The problem was that all the rest also asked for one, so Lance had to resign himself to do some extra farm work that day.

While milking Kaltenecker, he thought that all people had a weakness, even alien princesses, who were apparently weak to dairy. Well, his milkshake literally brought all people to the yard, it was undeniable. That led him to think about what could be the weak point of someone like Lotor... Could they get something from him with one of those? The ridiculous image of Lotor enjoying a shake made him wrinkle his face with displeasure. There was something strange about that guy. He remained firm that they should not believe a single word that came from him, although on the other hand, everything about the man was a mystery. Could they have fallen into a trap by letting him in? Could he be so powerful as to destroy the team from inside just by talking? He had already wrecked Shiro, and possibly Keith, in a single day...

And Keith, still looking for _his_ Shiro, so desperate. What about the rest of the team? Nobody was asking him to lead like before, but at least he had to make an effort to connect with the Black Lion again... there was a lot more at stake than his feelings here. What about the others, would he look for them with the same desperation if something like this happened to any of them? And their moment last night, what had it been? Did he even care? He didn’t even wake him up to tell him something, and the next day he goes out first thing in the morning in a futile search instead of talking to him...

He was being a little rough, so Kaltenecker moved restlessly and Lance, surprised, patted her on the side.

“Oh, no... sorry, Kaltenecker. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, really...” he said, stroking the soft back of the cow. Seriously, he was out of control. A couple of serious conversations with Keith didn’t give him a special rank or anything, in fact, it was the least to do for a friend. Why did he expect so much? He was acting like a madman, almost like... like he was _jealous_.

The sole idea made him laugh. He had already passed the stage of infantile jealousy from the Garrison, he was a new man, a mature one... the laughter slowly vanished when he thought that there was another kind of jealousy, less childish, but just as ridiculous...

Confused, he looked at Kaltenecker, and said:

“You are a sensitive girl. What do you think? Am I behaving like an idiot?”

The cow gave a soft mooing and Lance sighed.

“I guess I deserve that” he said, collecting all his things, clumsy. He felt as if he had stuck his nose where he shouldn’t, as if he had heard something forbidden and shameful. Like waking up a beast in a cave, and then it doesn’t want to go back to sleep.

'No, not there,' his mind said, immediately. Another entry in the list of things to avoid for his own sanity.

* * *

  
The day passed between calls from the allies and plans about celebrations, announcements, speeches... the recent triumph maintained, at least, high morale in the Coalition, which ignored the disaster within the Voltron team. Allura was in her room, so Coran and Lance worked on the bridge for a good part of the day, and Lance could appreciate how difficult the job was for the first time, now that Shiro was absent. There was a lot to take care of, apart from flying. Lance gave an imperceptible jump when Keith announced his return from the hangar, but he didn’t go to the bridge, so at least a couple more of hours passed in which Lance continued concentrating as much as possible on the things to be done, under the tutelage of Coran, who in the end thanked him for the help (and the shake) with great ceremony.

 “I'm pleasantly surprised, Lance. I didn’t think you were so good at administrative tasks.”

“I’m not, but someone had to help you, right Coran? Since you're on one of your grumpy days...” joked Lance.

“No more insolences, please. I have enough with _that_...” growled Coran, clearly referring to Lotor.

“Don’t turn on the audio of his cell anymore. And I think that if by chance you forget to bring him food a couple of days, nobody's gonna be angry at you,” suggested Lance.

“Tempting, but it goes against our principles. We Alteans always treat our prisoners with dignity, and now more than ever, we are proud to get away from the barbarism of a certain Empire that doesn’t know the first thing about ethics...”

“Alright, alright, it was just an idea.” Lance gave a big yawn. It wasn’t late, but it had been a tiring day. “I think I'll go see how Pidge and Hunk are doing. Since they didn’t even show up around here, I imagine they still must be playing with Lotor's ship.”

“Go ahead. Thank you again for your help,” replied Coran.

“No need to thank me, relax.”

The hangar for ships that weren’t the Lions was the furthest door of the great central corridor that connected all the hangars. He was about to get there, when he heard the unmistakable sound of one of the doors opening: it was the first door that he had passed, that is, the Black Lion’s. He turned abruptly, and could see Keith in the distance, coming out of the hangar, his expression somber. A cold caused by nerves froze him in place, but Keith didn’t see him, heading for the exit at a quick pace. Once again, that feeling of expectation and disappointment.

What to do? Since Keith didn’t see him nor seemed interested in talking, it would be logical to continue with his own things and simply meet with Hunk and Pidge, but on the other hand... Unconsciously, he eased his steps to follow Keith from afar. He saw him go through the hall, and Lance supposed he was heading to the rooms, but instead, he turned left and went down an underground corridor.

Uh-oh, thought Lance. The prison. Instead of allowing him to do something foolish, it would be better to show up and prevent him from talking to Lotor. Keith was quite ahead, so he hurried, going down the same stairs, which opened into another corridor full of controls for the security of the small prison, the door to the cells already open at the back. No trace of him anywhere. Where...?

“Why are you following me?” Keith's voice rang in his right ear and made him jump. There he was. The Blades had taught him a couple of tricks, it seemed.

“ _Quiznak_ , Keith, I almost had a heart attack” Lance tried to overcome the surprise and think something to say, but for a couple of seconds and while his pulse normalized, he just held his gaze, looking for words. To his surprise, Keith's look of mistrust began to melt and he lowered his eyes. _'He remembers, he knows...'_ purred a corner of his mind, satisfied. He tried to ignore it.

“Errr... I just saw you coming to the cells. I thought it’d be better to stop you from doing something stupid,” he finally said.

“I'm not going to do anything stupid,” Keith answered, a little flustered, still looking down.

“If you come to ask about Shiro, I doubt he knows anything. You are wasting your time,” Lance grunted. He realized that his voice sounded more severe than he intended.

“I’m not here to ask about Shiro!” Now Keith was definitely blushing.

Lance crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, still unable to suppress the harshness of his voice. He felt possessed again by that childish and detestable feeling.

“Oh really? And what else could you ask him? You were looking for Shiro again today, right?” The conversation was escalating unnecessarily and he knew it...

“And what do you care? This got nothing to do with you, I want to talk to him alone.” Keith tried to pass him by, but Lance grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Alone? Are you crazy?”

“Leave, Lance, this isn’t your problem...”

“Of course it's my problem, if you think I’m gonna let you go and talk to that guy by yourself, you...”

He was interrupted by footsteps that echoed on the stairs. They looked at each other, worried. They were forbidden to approach Lotor, who could it be at this hour? Coran?

Since they were in the middle of the corridor and didn’t have anywhere to go, they’d have to give an explanation to whoever came down, Lance was thinking, when suddenly Keith took his arm and made him move forward. Lance didn’t understand his plan, but he followed, stunned, feeling the grip of Keith's hand on his forearm. They entered the prison, where cells were built next to each other and only had a solid wall in front, and passed at full speed in front of Lotor's cell, which was the first one. Lance could see for a second the prince sitting on his bed, when he realized that Keith was entering the cell next door. All other cells had their lights off and they didn’t have the crystal in front, which only appeared when the energy of each cell was turned on. Keith stood still, his back to the side wall, which separated them from Lotor. Lance stood beside him, listening, wondering if the prince had seen them pass, or if they had managed to take him by surprise.

The steps approached, echoing, until they stopped very close and a finger pressed the communication button. Lotor's voice resounded in the hallway.

“Well, what a pleasant surprise. Princess Allura...”

“Lotor.” Allura's voice could be heard clearly. She was alone.

Keith and Lance looked at each other in surprise. Keith turned again to listen, but Lance realized he had a serious issue: he was struggling to take his eyes off his partner's black hair. His movements, the proximity and the situation had accelerated his pulse, and it was in that strange moment when he understood it. In a dark cell on an alien ship, spying on two heirs of galactic empires, as he could  _smell_ Keith's hair and appreciate his strong figure by his side, close and unguarded like never before, Lance McClain realized that he had awakened the beast from the cave and that, even if he fought against it, it was too late: it would not go back sleep again anytime soon. He gulped. The permanent void in his chest from his Garrison days was never gone, but now it had a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, my impatient ass always suffers with slow burn stories, so I don't know why I'm doing this to you and myself. Don't worry though, we are gonna move forward soon. But I have a lot of feelings about Lotor and Shiro too (actually about every single character in this show I swear...), so I wanna give them some spotlight too. I hope you don't mind. 
> 
> I know some parts may sound awkward this time, it's been the most difficult chapter to translate, since it has less dialogue and a LOT of inner thoughts. My Lance thinks a bit too much lol. I hope you liked it anyway!
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, loves! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mentions of experimentation, pain, needles. Implied panic attack. Nothing extreme, but I'd rather warn you.  
> Bear with me, this is a lot of info, but it's the last chapter of this kind, I promise. We finally get a hint to why is it called Ouroboros lol. Enjoy!

In the darkness of the inactive cell, illuminated only by the dim light that reflected from the corridor, Keith leaned to the wall, not daring to move a muscle. The situation was unexpected, but he was very interested in what Allura might have to discuss by herself with Lotor, after having forbidding them to approach him. He made an effort to pay attention over the annoying steady beat of his own pulse, trying to focus. It wasn’t easy. Lance's breathing was too close and perceptible, but he didn’t dare to tell him to control it. They had crossed a bewildered look and Keith could glimpse, in the soft light, surprise in Lance’s eyes, fixed in his, intense. A fleeting moment in which they communicated that neither of them knew what was happening, but if it lasted longer, would’ve been uncomfortable. After a night of pondering, Keith had decided to avoid Lance as much as possible from now on. Not because he was upset with him, but he was afraid to start a conversation that he wouldn’t know how to finish... so the current situation was quite unfortunate. His stomach hurt every time he remembered the shameful episode of the night before.

After a pause, voices resounded in the hallway and Keith diverted his thoughts back to the conversation.

“...So, to what do I owe such a pleasant visit?” Lotor sounded like always: relaxed, cynical... dangerous.

“You said you wanted to discuss an issue with me, alone. Here I am.” Allura sounded strict, but Keith and Lance knew her well enough to know that this defensive stance hid her nervousness.

Lotor's laugh bounced off the corridor.

“Ah, a rebellious princess who solves her problems on her own. My type... of monarch.”

Keith could almost visualize Allura's red cheeks and could perfectly imagine her hateful gaze. In fact, he himself felt annoyed, and Lance's involuntary movements behind him told him he wasn’t the only one. There was something extremely offensive to the team when someone disrespected Allura.

“I do not have to remind you that your fate is in my hands right now, right? You know what I came for.” Her voice was now as cold as the cell.

“Ah, Princess, nothing would please me more than to be certain that my destiny is in hands as beautiful as yours, however, that’s not true.” Keith could clearly see through Lotor's voice the same crooked smile he always had. He thought that Allura was making a mistake trying to measure her acuity against someone like him, and considered whether it would be better to intervene. They’d had to get the information by other methods ...

“You are going to stop talking in riddles, stop the poisoned blabbering, and you are going to tell me immediately everything you know about Honerva. Now,” demanded Allura, this time achieving the intimidating effect she was looking for.

No laughter, only a pause. Keith took a peek behind him. Lance was staring at the void now, listening, but noticing his movement, he silently placed a hand on Keith's shoulder and looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. Keith understood that he was asking _'What does Allura want to know?'_ He shrugged and refocused on the conversation, noticing that Lance's hand did not move from his shoulder.

“I understand. You want to know if what I said about my parents is true. How do I know about things that have happened ten thousand years ago? I understand that it’s an important issue for you,” said Lotor. Allura didn’t reply, so the prince continued:

“I have no reason to hide anything, so I'll explain the situation and I guess it will be up to you to believe me or not. I wish you could sit down, this is a long story...”

“Speak”. The impatience in the voice of the Princess perfectly reflected the impatience of her hidden paladins.

“Fine. But remember that you asked for it. I hope you do not accuse me of trying to put ideas in your head afterwards. Wouldn’t it be nice if we had... _witnesses..._?”

Keith felt a chill on his back and Lance squeezed his shoulder. That tone... It meant Lotor knew they were there, he had seen them cross the corridor. Wasn’t he going to give them away?

“What do you…?” Allura began to ask, but Lotor interrupted:

“Are you familiar with the ‘Ouroboros theory’?”

This time Allura's voice sounded almost outraged.

“Of course I do, it is a concept invented by the Alteans. The ouroboros was a beast that inhabited Altea’s pole, that devoured itself to survive and its life extended for so long that it was believed to be immortal. Our ancestors studied it for centuries, and it was a valuable pillar in the foundation of our entire civilization. What does it have to do with this?”

That sounded familiar to Keith. Wasn’t that myth from Earth? A serpent that devoured its tail eternally? Or was it a fish?

“Ah yes, I heard Alteans took a lot of pride in their wonderful theories,” replied Lotor, “but each civilization that prides itself on it must have a similar one. After all, few are the universal truths, and this is one of them: 'Nothing perishes, everything changes'. Even the most primitive creatures intuit it. Altean and Galra technology make use of this principle a lot, and the altean alchemists where especially well versed in it, am I right?”

Keith remembered that Allura had told them about his father once. The king of Altea, Alfor, was a remarkable alchemist, so he could notice in that uncomfortable pause the stitch of pain that the princess must feel at the mention. Lotor was doing it on purpose, he thought with hatred.

“You... how do you know these things? Who has instructed you?” Allura asked, in a thread of voice.

“Instruct me... I think that's not the right word."

"Then who are you, really?" Allura's tone was low. Lotor took a moment to answer this time.

"If you ask me who I am, I will answer that I am Lotor, son of Emperor Zarkon and his wife Honerva, an altean alchemist. I was born more than ten thousand years ago, and yet here I am, just like you. And that would make us two creatures wandering out of their time. Tragic and romantic, don’t you think?”

This time Lance seemed about to explode behind Keith, who elbowed him as a warning, maybe with a little more strength than he should. Allura seemed stunned, perhaps in indignation, perhaps surprised. Lotor's laughter rang again, but his tone was duller.

“Unfortunately, our ‘conservation’ process has not been the same. I understand that you were preserved intact, at this very ship, thanks to the great Altean engineering. In my case, they have applied the Ouroboros theory. Everything I have told you about the depravity of my father's druids has not been random, my dear Allura. I just want you to understand what I'm about to explain... and that you believe me.”

“How could I believe you? Every word you say seems aimed at destabilizing us,” the princess sounded bewildered and scared of what she was about to hear.

 “Then I can settle for you to listen to me and judge for yourself,” answered Lotor, grim. The silence seemed to be an affirmation.

“Objectively, we could say that I was born around the same decade as you. A little earlier, I think. I have been told that there was great expectation in the kingdom. However, my mother was already suffering the effects of her closeness to quintessence, and I would dare say that my father was too. When the time of my birth arrived, there were… complications. A prince was born already dying, and Galra science was not enough to save him, since the disease was nothing more than excessive contact with the quintessence, and for that there is no cure. After all, the quintessence is a pure and uncontrollable energy, which feeds on the life force of everything that exists in this universe, and reconstructs it as something else. The Ouroboros theory, once again. My mother's body and mind were already affected by it, and that caused the inevitable. Her son... did not survive more than a few days.”

“But…”

“Allow me. I'll explain it immediately," Lotor interrupted, unusually polite. He continued:

“Of course this saddened King Zarkon, but Honerva was not going to give up. Even convalescent, she tried to resort to what she had developed for years. It must have seemed like destiny had prepared her for it, surely. Ironic, because it was her obsession that provoked everything... once again, it is difficult to distinguish cause and consequence in this cycle. What matters is that she resorted to everything she knew, but nothing would restore his son's life. What dies cannot be revived, but at the same time, nothing really perishes, everything is transformed... I guess that's where the idea came from. Quite the dark idea, but you have to understand that she was out of her mind already.”

Lotor sighed. Keith and Lance barely breathed, expectantly.

“You're... you're suggesting...” Allura stammered.

“Yes,” confirmed Lotor, with a strange voice. He seemed... sad? “I understand that Altean philosophy always aspired to imitate the Ouroboros and the idea of immortality may have been its goal. That’d explain how their technology managed to preserve living beings for millennia, for example.”

Keith recalled that, in addition to the machines that kept her and Coran alive, Allura was able to communicate with his father for some time, or at least a shadow of what he had been, that retained his memories and feelings. Lotor seemed to be right. Allura must have been thinking the same thing, for she didn’t say a word.

“But not even you dared to try to raise a dead creature, because as good alchemists, they knew that creating life and reviving what has perished is taboo. But my mother had no limits. She tried anyway ... and now we can say that she almost succeeded.”

Again, a pause. Lotor's voice began to sound hasty.

“It was not an immediate process. In fact, initially it was just failure after failure. Only a few heard of the death of the king's son, and my father ordered that no one spoke of it again. My mother lost all vestige of sanity that she had left. But for years, she devoted herself tirelessly to preserve me. Oh, I know how bad it sounds,” laughed Lotor, correctly interpreting the face that Allura must be making, which must be the same that Keith and Lance had, “but in the end, her twisted efforts were translated only into a genetic impression of his son. A sort of... removable copy. Data.”

“You mean she managed to make an exact copy of his own son's genetic material?” Allura asked, disgusted.

“Yes. At that time, the foundations were just being laid for what is the current genetic manipulation. I already explained it to you, didn’t I? We have a very particular genetic material. Recreating it was impossible ten thousand years ago, but science has advanced, and it was thanks to the efforts of my mother. They did not know it, but that was a decisive moment for the future Empire ... although it was not enough.”

A thud made them jump. Apparently Lotor had kicked the floor with the heel of his shoe.

“They wouldn’t conform, they did not want a simple ‘copy’. They wanted their son. Honerva went mad after so many failures, and her life began to die out. My father... I guess you know what he did? My theory is that he always believed that the quintessence would give him back what it had taken from him. After all, if it had stolen his son’s life, perhaps in exchange it would save his wife. But he found nothing but... well, you must know the story too well. Inside the rift he found nothing more than horrors that do not belong to this dimension, and Daibazaal was consumed. My mother died, and my father became what he is and started his war against your father. And, nevertheless, here I am. Do you want to know how?”

Lotor's voice had been accelerating word by word and it was beginning to get out of control.

“The _druids_. Again and again, they tried. Honerva's plan failed and it died with her, but the druids continued what my mother had tried, now from another angle. They had the data, so they tried to recreate a perfect version of Prince Lotor of the Galra. Century after century, they failed. However, from each failure they were saving more data, learning from their mistakes. How many sacrifices have been made in the sake of this? Countless. Ten thousand deca-phoebs it took them to perfect the prototype, the same ones of the reign of horror of my father. Over the years, I have been born and died many times... impressing, right? Sometimes I perished immediately, and sometimes I survived long enough to save some memories.”

“Me... memories? How…?”

“Oh, if you think physical manipulation is aberrant, it's because you are not considering what they can do to a mind. This body that you see in front of you actually exists since just a few decades ago. This time they allowed me to grow up from childhood, and everything went pretty well, as you can appreciate. But the final touch was missing. After all, what is a prince without a memory? No more than a simple _clone_. And that was not what my father's dirty witch wanted. She wanted to give him his lost prince... so she committed one last desecration. This one did not go so well.”

Lance's hand was tightening on Keith's shoulder, but Keith, so absorbed in Lotor's words, hadn’t noticed. Even knowing that the Galra Empire had subjected so many cultures for millennia, even when they had heard their allies tell them of the horrors their people lived, even having fought so long against them, they realized that they had only scratched the surface. On Earth, what the Galra had done was called ‘playing God’. Literally, they were fighting against forces they could never quite understand, Keith thought, uneasily.

“In her madness, the witch introduced in me memories from ten thousand years ago. They are not a big deal, just some unconnected images of the best days of Daibazaal, of my father. Of my mother, none. I guess it's because she did not get to know her, I ignore the details. She wanted to create in me the idea that, much like you, Princess, I was only immersed in a long sleep. Since I opened my eyes for the first time, I have been able to remember parts of an era in which I really did not live, and because of that, I feel that I was torn abruptly from it. But what the witch doesn’t know is that she also transferred other things... other memories.”

A restless pounding indicated to Keith that Lotor had begun his traditional walk through the cell.

“I have images of other... 'incarnations', for lack of a better term. Memories that certainly she didn’t want to give me. Something went wrong, and now I have in my mind images of cells, laboratories, tubes... I remember other prisoners long dead by now, and even if I try hard enough, I can feel in my arms the pressure of belts, needles... the feeling of being submerged in a tank... who knows where... and I can... I can look down and see the body of a child that does not belong to me, and even though I try not to... I dream, I see it in my dreams, since I have consciousness, since ... that ... always... I always..."

“Lotor?!” Allura exclaimed, worried.

Keith didn’t dare to look out of fear of being discovered, but he was shocked and really wanted to see what was happening. It seemed like Lotor wasn’t able to keep talking, and his exalted breathing could be clearly heard. With all the hatred that he professed to him, a nauseating feeling overwhelmed Keith at that moment. Pity, maybe? If it was all true, of course...

He dared to glance back, noticing that the hand on his shoulder now squeezed him almost hurting him, and he could glimpse, in the darkness, that Lance was pale and shocked. His forehead was pearly with little drops of sweat, and his eyes were open in an expression of mute horror, looking down the corridor. Again, noting that Keith was watching him, Lance met his gaze, and this time he gestured, shaking his head, _'I can’t believe this_ '. He didn’t know what to answer, so he only looked away.

“Oof... what a sad show. I thought... that I had overcome this long ago,” said Lotor, pausing and recovering the rhythm of his breathing. “Don’t worry, Princess. I'm fine.”

“But…”

“Do you understand why I don’t appreciate my father, nor his disgusting sorcerers? I saw through my own eyes and felt in my own flesh what they have done to the rest of the universe. And that is only one part. Some are made to work in forced labor camps, others are just killed. Entire planets have been razed to extract their raw materials from them. They tried to educate me and make me believe that this was the price for the glory of our Empire, and to become a worthy heir of my father. But that’s impossible when in your head you are one more prisoner of this sick Empire. Do you believe me now when I tell you that nothing would make me happier than seeing my father fall? Do you believe I tried it, and that's why I am here?”

“I ... I ...” Allura didn’t know what to say.

“I know what you think of me. And it is true. I have manipulated, blackmailed and lied all my life. Fortunately, they gave me a skillful body and an optimal mind. If they knew what I know, they would not have hesitated to submit me to a reeducation session, personal courtesy of my father's witch. This is my way to survive.”

“And Zarkon allowed this? Did he allow them... to do this to his own son? For millennia?”

The bitterness of Lotor's laughter made it sound almost like bark.

“If he had any fatherly instinct, it died the day his ‘real’ son did. I don’t even know if he’s really interested in having an heir. It was useful, no doubt, to prevent others from harboring the idea of succeeding him, but the truth is that my father does not intend to die. You defeated him, and he still managed to come back. No, my ‘father’, the one from my embedded memories, no longer exists. All that remains is the carcass that retains his ambition, infected by the quintessence and the magic of his druids. Nothing else.”

The silence stretched for at least a full minute. Keith had thousands of questions, but Allura didn’t seem willing to ask them. Maybe she was as disgusted by the situation as Lance looked. For his part, he was trying to process what he had heard keeping his distrust intact. Kolivan had warned them: Lotor was an expert manipulator. To his surprise, the Princess spoke again, and this time impregnated every word of unusual hardness.

“This is not over, Lotor. If everything you have told me is true, I am very sorry for what happened to you. But you still have not explained what you intended to do, and I cannot trust you knowing that you got in our way more than once... no, not now. We will discuss it in another occasion.”

“Aw. What a shame. These visits are the only entertainment I have in this cell, really,” answered Lotor, trying to sound like always. However, the exhaustion of his voice was notorious.

“I already told you, this is not over. I will be back. However... I must warn you. Nothing you tell me will be a secret to my people. I do not keep secrets with them, even if I came alone this time," said Allura.

“Hmph. In that case, I suppose I could tell a chapter to every visitor who comes to take a walk around here.”

“What do you mean? Has anyone else come to see you?” Allura asked, suspicious.

The paladins shuddered in the shadows.

“No. _Not yet..._ ” said Lotor.

He wanted something from them, Keith thought, clenching his teeth. Damn it... They would have to go out and face him. The prince added:

“Well, I'm not in a position to demand anything. It's humiliating, but it does not really matter. In that case, I have to entrust you with the task that when you tell it, you give my story all the heart it deserves, at least. A few tears would give it more impact.”

Had Keith's ears deceived him, or had Allura laughed for half a second? A rasp from the Princess seemed to confirm it. To Keith, the situation was getting worse and worse. Allura was a creature sensitive to the pain of others, which was one of her virtues, but a terrible defect in the context of war. Any show of sympathy for the enemy was dangerous.

“Well... I’m leaving. Coran will come to see you soon. Do not say a word about our conversation, I'll talk to everyone later.”

“I'm good at keeping secrets. Especially when asked kindly," replied Lotor.

For all answer, the "beep" of the audio button was heard. Allura turned off the communication and her footsteps were lost in the distance.

Keith and Lance released in unison the breath they seemed to have held back the entire conversation. Lance's persistent hand was still on his shoulder so, to remove it, Keith turned and looked at him straight to the eye. The boy moved his hand away as if he had burned, and proceeded to run it across the back of his neck, pausing before speaking.

“So... ouroboros?” he muttered.

“What?” Keith asked.

“I'm trying to remember the name of the thing that eats its own tail. The... theory they talked about, I'm sure we have one on Earth as well.”

“Yeah, it's called ouroboros too, I think,” Keith remembered.

“Isn't that weird? Why do we know some old Altean myth or whatever? Where did it come from? I sucked at history, to be honest,” Lance said.

“I have no idea either,” Keith replied.

Both were silent for a moment, and Lance sighed again.

“Man, I don’t know what to think of all this,” he finally said. “I mean, everything is _so wrong_. Allura talked with this guy by herself and he managed to convince her that he is a victim. But I don’t blame her, because his story was a real horror show. If everything is true, the dude seeks a real vendetta against his old man...”

"’If everything is true’, yeah right. I won’t believe a word until I see some evidence. Think of what he did to Shiro," Keith replied, angrily.

Lance opened his eyes wide and then his eyebrows descended creating an expression that Keith recognized as 'scolding'. Again…

“That reminds me, why the hell were you coming to talk to him, then? If you don’t believe him, why did you come to ask about Shiro again?”

“I already told you I didn’t come to ask about Shiro. It's... something else," Keith said, crossing his arms.

“I saw you leave the hangar of the Black Lion and come here, what else could it be? And, by the way, how did it go with the Black Lion?” Lance asked, frowning even more.

Keith's silence said everything. Lance relaxed his expression a little.

“Oh… well, it’ll be fine, you just have to... work a little on it. Everything has happened too fast and maybe the Lion noticed that you are worried about other things. Just keep trying...”

“I don’t wanna try. The Lion and I know I can’t do it this time," Keith replied.

“You can do it, he chose you before, unexperienced and all. He’ll do it again,” insisted Lance.

“You don’t get it, he knows...”

“No, YOU don’t get it,” Lance raised a threatening finger and put it inches from Keith's nose, “I hate to say it, but this time it's not about whether you can or not. You just have to do it. No other choices, sorry.”

There were never options for him. It was always the same.

“And why don’t YOU try, eh? If you're so sure.” Keith knew he was being childish, but between what was happening now and what had happened the night before, he didn’t feel capable of maintaining any mature discussion with Lance. He was completely beside himself, and what was disconcerting was that Lance was handling him too well. What happened during those months while he was away to make him so 'mature'? He didn’t dare look up, so he fixed his eyes on the threatening finger that was still near his nose, while Lance spoke again.

“Nope. I won’t try, you know why? ‘cause I don’t want to.” The finger was now moving up and down. “I don’t want to, because Red and I are flying better than ever, and I don’t want to leave it. I'm ok with him.”

“And that’s your argument? Then why do I have to...?”

The finger curled, held by the thumb, and Lance stretched it out, giving a small but painful blow to Keith's nose.

“The hell…?!” Keith put his hands to his face, giving a shoulder shove to Lance, who did nothing to prevent it.

“Are you really going to make me repeat what I told you last night?” he simply said, straightening his back. Keith was frozen, and he felt again the unpleasant hot sensation rising up his cheeks. Lance sighed, and said:

“We'll have to discuss this later. We're taking too long and this guy knows we're here. We have to find a way out without him seeing us, or... well, talk to him. I think that’s what he expects.”

“I'm going to face him. I want to know what he's going to say,” Keith said.

“Then let’s go. And yes, I mean we both go,” declared Lance, irritated.

Keith decided not to protest, even though his nose still hurt. After all, the only person who would understand what he wanted to ask was him. They went out into the corridor, and Lotor was facing the glass of his cell, slightly bent as if he was tired, with his hands behind his back, waiting. They approached and pressed the button, and he straightened again.

“You sure took your time. I was beginning to believe that maybe it had been some rodents that had run past my cell and I had misinterpreted it,” said Lotor, by way of greeting.

“Save it, Lotor. I came to ask something,” said Keith.

“Only that? I thought you were spying on your princess. I was wondering if it is normal for the Voltron team to be so suspicious of each other,” said Lotor, with his unpleasant smile.

“Never! Allura told you, we have no secrets between us. Don’t even think you can try to antagonize us," Lance replied, contemptuously.

“I do not even need to try when her own knights have the discourtesy of listening to her private conversations behind the doors. She does not seem like the kind of lady who appreciates that behavior,” Lotor taunted them . Lance kicked the ground, but Keith stretched out a hand to stop him.

“We are not here for that. I…”

“I know what you came for,” Lotor interrupted, now with a serious face. Keith was baffled for a second, but recovered.

“Then talk. What do you know?” he asked. Lance looked at one and the other, lost.

“Unfortunately, you find me in a bad mood. I wanted to discuss this matter with the Princess in private, and I had to do it with two unwanted witnesses in between. I am pretty upset...”

“Cut it out. You're not the only one in a bad mood,” Keith growled.

Lotor took a few steps through the cell, as if measuring his options.

“You want to know what I know about _her_... aha, that's the reaction. That proves that I was not wrong...” said the prince, seeing Keith's involuntary expression. Lance opened his mouth, surprised. Apparently, he was beginning to understand. Lotor took a few more steps, and stood in front of the glass, slyly.

“Fair enough, we'll do this. I will tell you everything I know about the matter that interests you, but only when I have been allowed to leave this cell. While I am a prisoner here, my mouth is sealed.”

Keith felt that the anger was making him see red.

“Who do you think you are to impose conditions? You want me to make you talk?... The hell are you laughing at?!

Lotor laughed heartily. He even wiped a tear on the side of one eye.

“Are you going to make me sing? After what you heard, do you really think you could?” Lotor threw back his long silver mane, with the last spasms of laughter “No, little Blade, it doesn’t work like that. Furthermore, I doubt that Princess Allura is very pleased to learn that her paladins are committing illicit acts in the dungeons of her own Castle.”

“And you seriously think that we're stupid enough to let you out just because you're asking?” Lance asked, annoyed.

“I do think you are stupid, but it's not what I'm suggesting,” said Lotor, enjoying the outraged faces of the two paladins. “I think that sooner or later they will let me out of here, but it’d be better if it is soon. I hate to be still when I could be doing a lot out there. And for you, by the way.”

Both Keith and Lance had trouble holding back the urge to open the cell and hit Lotor, but Keith controlled himself first.

“So you want us to help convince Allura to let you walk around the castle at your leisure? Is that it?”

“In summary, yes. I already said it, I think it is inevitable, but if you rush the process, it will be beneficial for everyone. Especially for you,” claimed Lotor.

“Jerk” Keith said, giving a strong kick to the glass, which didn’t even vibrate.

“This is too much fun, but I'm afraid that Mustache will appear at any moment, and he will ruin our little party. But if you want to keep entertaining me, go ahead,” said Lotor, sitting in his chair and stretching his legs, like someone who is having a blast.

Keith let him know where he could shove the party while he pressed the audio button and gestured Lance to get out of the dungeon. They left at a trot, both taking care that no one saw them leave, and once in the hall, Lance stopped and asked seriously:

“Your mother, right? How does Lotor know about your mother?”

“… That's what I came to ask,” Keith replied, biting his lower lip bitterly.

“Ahhhhhh... _quiznak_ ” Lance muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done with the wall of info! Not much romance, but believe me, next one is gonna be finally kl-kl-klaaaanced! (Yey for it being 1° ship of the year!).  
> So, this fic is called Ouroboros for a reason. It will show clearly near the end, but maybe you already can see some of it! It is related to Operation Kuron, and that's all that I'm gonna spoil :).
> 
> Lotor's story is quite grim, but who really knows what the guy pretends, right? (Yeah... I know it's quite obvious that I love him and expect that canon makes him justice. 80's Lotor is a creep tho, I'm talking about new Lotor lol). 
> 
> You can find me evading reality in my secondary [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun)
> 
> Thanks for reading, loves! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy Holidays, everyone (a bit late).  
> This chapter we finally have some advances in romance. Warning? Nah, just a real soft mention of lustful thoughts. We are still T rated. Enjoy!

Four days had passed since the conversation between Lotor and Allura, and Keith was sitting in the Black Lion, once more, frustrated and worried. Every day he had entered the cockpit and tried as hard as he could for the Lion to connect with him, uselessly. He had asked for it in a good way, he had begged, he had lashed out and had offered him a replacement as soon as they could find one... and no reaction. Not even when he explained that they needed him to find Shiro once more. That pissed him off. Didn’t he want his paladin back? Or could it be that he liked his pilot so much that he wouldn’t accept a lower replacement?

The situation was desperate. The allies were demanding to see Voltron, and the fear of the Galra's reprisal was beginning to transform the high morale of the resistance into paranoia. The prolonged silence of their enemies seemed to announce something worse than a simple counterattack. The presence of Lotor in the Castleship made everyone nervous, and no one from the Coalition wanted to take care of him (at least not without killing him).

And, although the team tried not to show it, all this pressure fell directly on Keith, whose head threatened to explode at any moment. His mind had been a real storm these days. When he sat in front of the panel he tried to empty his mind of all thoughts, but it was useless; every time he closed his eyes, ideas danced in his brain in an uninterrupted chain: his mother, Lotor, the Lion, Shiro... Lance.

Again, the familiar tension in his stomach when he thought about Lance. It was absurd that among so many important things that were happening, the one that was depriving him of sleep was that. Nothing was the same since the episode on the observation deck. At the most unexpected moments he remembered it, writhing in embarrassment through the corridors of the Castle, and when he was in the darkness of his room desperately trying to catch some sleep, the vague smell of his jacket seemed to sneak under the door from somewhere, enveloping him, confusing him. He had never experienced something like this before in his life. Since he had returned to the Castle, things seemed to have changed. He didn’t understand why, since this kind of subtleties were not his forte, but something was certain, at least: Lance wasn’t behaving as he always did either.

The day they heard the conversation of the two princes, after leaving the prison, they had stopped at the main hall and, after a brief exchange of words, decided to head to the lounge, to wait for Allura to call them and tell them about her conversation with Lotor.

“We'll have to be convincing, alright? We never heard a thing,” said Lance, with dramatic attitude.

“Just don’t say anything, that's enough. It's not as if anyone would suspect of us,” Keith replied.

Lance ran a hand over the back of his neck, as if measuring his words while he watched him. And again, Keith felt that it was difficult to hold his gaze: he crossed his arms and looked away, waiting for Lance to start an absurd discussion on the subject, as was the custom. But, to his surprise, he simply said:

“Yeah… you're right. Let's go then.”

Perplexed, Keith loosened his arms as Lance walked towards the corridor, and followed him. He expected a myriad of comments about that night's episode, or about the cell, or about Allura; anything in fact, for Lance always talked too much for his liking, and with what had happened the night before, he was prepared for an avalanche of sarcastic and provocative comments. Being alone, it was the perfect opportunity. He had even spent part of the night thinking sharp answers with which defend himself, because although his goal was to stay as far as possible from Lance, he considered it was inevitable that they’d have to face each other sooner or later, and he wanted to be prepared.

But all that effort was for nothing. As they moved through the corridors, Lance maintained a respectful distance, without speaking, and walking at a normal pace. Keith didn’t know how to interpret this change. It didn’t seem that Lance was angry (he had no reason, right? Except for him leaving him sleeping in the cold floor...), but somehow he seemed ... distant?

Nothing made sense. Lance remembered last night, he told him inside the cell, looking frustrated _‘Are you really going to make me repeat what I told you last night?’._ Which part? That they were friends? Or ... That he was needed? He felt his ears burn once more. Was it possible that Lance also felt ashamed of it? But then he wouldn’t have said anything, he would’ve pretended that nothing had happened, just like when he denied that Keith had ever cradled him in his arms ...

 _… Oh Right._ He cradled him in his arms once. He would remember it for the next time Lance said something to embarrass him. If he ever did...

Lost in his thoughts Keith barely noticed the way, so the voices of Hunk and Pidge surprised him. They had arrived at the entrance to the lounge, and inside were Allura and the two paladins who, as fast as they could, were informing her about their discoveries on Lotor's ship.

“... and these tanks manipulate some substance that almost bursts Hunk's meter. And I'm sure it's the same thing we saw before, Zarkon’s witch had it, remember? Some kind of processed quintessence” Pidge was talking at full speed, as she always did when she was excited about some discovery.

“Yes ...” Allura seemed overwhelmed by the excess of information.

“So, with Pidge we have two theories about what the ship is for” said Hunk, joining the palms of his hands “The first is that it’s just a freighter. When you told us the story of Voltron's creation we supposed that Lotor seeks to use the comet to cross realities and extract pure quintessence, and that's why we've been following him, right? To thwart his evil plans. But it turns out that the tanks are not that big and they are also empty. If he made it for cargo ... something happened and the plan went wrong. And that's why we have Prince Charming here.”

“Something like what?” asked the Princess.

“Well... we have no idea. The ship is in perfect condition,” recognized Hunk.

Keith saw Allura's eyebrow rise slowly and Pidge doing a facepalm.

“Okay, that theory was the original and needs a lot of work, BUT now we lean more for this one,” said Hunk, excited. “You see, as we told you, the tank doesn’t feed the ship to fuel it, since it doesn’t need any fuel thanks to the comet’s...”

“You already explained that,” interrupted Pidge, sitting on the back of the sofa, impatient. “What surprised us is that the substance was not only stored: it’s used by the ship itself. The tanks feed an external system that, since it has no juice now, we couldn’t try, so we don’t know exactly what it does, but it goes through the whole ship. Because of the structure, it looks a lot like a barrier...”

“Ahem, thank you, I wanted to explain this part,” Hunk interrupted now, with airs of wisdom, “the Galra already have quite efficient barriers, so why would he need such a complicated one? Well, here comes the teludav. Our theory is that Lotor intended to use the teludav to take a leap into space with this ship. A big one. And he needed the ship to be loaded with quintessence when making that jump...”

“But why build it using the comet, then? He just needed the teludav and the quintessence in that case," theorized Keith, going in with Lance and unable to resist the temptation to interrupt. He noticed that Pidge looked at them with her eyebrows raised and a strange crooked smile as they entered.

“Hey, hello guys… Well, I was getting there," Hunk continued. “If he wanted to travel long distances, he could do it without going through the trouble of stealing the comet and the teludav from his dad who, well, as we know, would be very mad about it. And also it doesn’t make sense, because to use the teludav you need at least one Altean, right? If he fought with Zarkon, how would he get the witch to help him?”

Allura gasped as she put a hand to her mouth, and the whole crew looked at her. The Princess blushed. Keith understood: if what Lotor had said was true, the witch was not the only Altean of the Empire.

“Err... is something wrong?” Lance asked. Keith gave him a warning look. Allura seemed to hesitate.

“… No. So... What kind of jump was he trying to make?” she asked finally.

Keith and Lance exchanged a surprised look. Apparently, Allura didn’t intend to tell them about her conversation with Lotor yet, because that would have been the perfect moment. Why…?

“Well, if he wanted to give the teludav the same use we gave it, he could do it at any time... but he waited to create a ship made of the comet’s material. Not satisfied with that, he loaded it with quintessence to fuel some weird inner system. And here comes our previous assumption. What would happen if Lotor pretended to use the comet's ability to cross through realities, the quintessence _and_ the teludav at the same time? What would happen then?” Hunk looked at his teammates like a teacher asking a question to his class.

“... No friggin’ idea,” Lance replied, shrugging.

“Exactly. We have no idea either!” Hunk exclaimed, triumphant. The others looked at him incredulous and open mouthed. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. Get it? The fact that we don’t have the slightest idea of the possible result is what makes us most inclined to this theory. If Lotor sacrificed so much for this plan, it's because he expected a spectacular result.”

“We believe that Lotor intended not only to go through realities, but to look for some specific place for some reason, one so far away that he needs a teludav to arrive and a barrier of quintessence to protect himself. We don’t know how that combination would work, because I bet no one has tried it before, but it can’t be for anything good. At least, that's what we've deduced by looking at his ship,” concluded Pidge.

“And if it went wrong as he said, we should ask him how. But I’m not sure if his answers will be of any help, being the liar that he is... the only sure thing in all this mess is that he must never, ever, EVER recover the ship. Whatever his plan was, one thing is clear... the guy is crazy. Like, dangerous-crazy,” Hunk pointed out.

Everyone was silent, until Allura spoke.

“We... we will have to interrogate him. But it's not a priority so, for now, no one get close to him, understood?”

“But ...” Keith was going to protest, but Lance kicked him under the table.

“When the time comes, we'll talk about it. For now, we have to focus on what really matters,” Allura looked at Keith eloquently, and he understood what she meant. Voltron.

Keith and Lance sat there for the rest of the evening, shocked that Allura, despite what she had said about ‘not having secrets with her people’, was hiding her conversation with Lotor. Lance was particularly hurt. It seemed incredible that Allura could lie... well, ‘omit’, as he preferred to say, something so relevant.

The two boys had left the lounge together, and stopped at the intersection on the way to their bedrooms to discuss it. When they got up from the table, Keith couldn’t help noticing that Pidge's eyes followed them with a malicious expression once more, and he told Lance that.

“Do you think she suspects something?” he asked.

“S... suspect?” Lance choked while asking. Keith looked at him with a frown.

“We were in the prison... she handles security protocols. Maybe she knows,” he clarified.

“Ah ... AH!” Lance seemed to just understand. “...Damn, I didn’t think about that before. Maybe, but I doubt she would shut up about something like that, right?”

“What did you think I meant?” Keith asked.

Lance blushed a little.

“Well... I don’t know, nothing in particular. It's just that this whole thing... confuses me,” stuttered the boy.

Keith didn’t find the answer satisfactory, but he had other things to worry about.

“We’ll have to be vigilant. If they discovered us, it’s better to tell them what we know instead of messing this even more. If Allura doesn’t, we'll have to do it ourselves,” he said.

“Let's give her time. I want to believe that Allura is just looking for the right moment,” Lance replied, sighing.

They were quiet for a moment, and Keith realized that it was time for them to separate and go to their respective rooms, but none of them seemed to know how to end the conversation. Was it always so uncomfortable to say a simple ‘good night’? Definitely not.

“Well... I'll have to try again to connect with the Lion tomorrow. So...” Keith mumbled.

“Oh, sure. It's already late, anyway ... Well, see ya,” said Lance, awkwardly. Keith felt again that something was out of place. Really, wasn’t he going to say anything? Was he really going to make it that easy for Keith? He should be grateful instead of worried, in that case, and take the chance to forget, why did he insist on bothering himself about this...? He turned to go to his room.

“Keith,” Lance called him, suddenly. _‘Oh no, here we go’_ thought Keith, turning back to look at him apprehensively.

“Err...”

In the corridor, Lance's doubtful figure could be clearly appreciated. He was a little taller than him, and thinner. Unlike his own build, more compact and strong, Lance had an agile and light body, dark skin always in healthy appearance and expressive blue eyes. Usually, those eyes looked at him with irritation, but this time, they watched him with an expression that Keith could not decipher. He looked back expectantly, but Lance seemed to struggle with himself for a while and, in a tone similar to defeat, only said:

“… Rest well. Tomorrow will be another day, alright? The Lion... you know. Don’t give up.”

Keith looked at him, perplexed. He didn’t even try to come with a witty answer, because the urge to run away was more powerful.

“Sure... good night,” he said, and hurried to his room. _What-was-happening?_

When he locked himself in his room, he sat on the bed and brushed away his hair from his face, closing his eyes. In the darkness he could see the image of Lance in the corridor, and with the clarity of a movie, intersperse with the one on the deck. His tired face, illuminated by the light of the stars in such a private environment, took his breath away. The movement of his mouth when speaking to him, the smell of the jacket, and now the proximity in the dark cell...

The sudden pulse of his body was like a warning: ‘keep thinking about it and...’. Trying to understand why, trying to rationalize something that had no explanation, he rolled on his bed, trying to calm down, feeling ashamed and confused, like when he was a preteen and had no one to ask them what was happening to him. He didn’t know how to interpret it, because it was the first time something like this happened to him when thinking about a real, known person. For worse: a friend. A good friend, he thought bitterly. A night of confusion and agony awaited him, suppressing all thoughts, fearing the moment when he’d have to look at Lance's face in the morning, until he fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

But his fear was unfounded. Four days had passed since that night, and they hadn’t exchanged more than a few greetings. The few times they saw each other were always in the common places, they crossed only strictly necessary words, and thus it became evident that the feared ‘Lance’s counterattack’ would not arrive. This unsettled Keith as much as the rebellious, dark thoughts he was having, particularly at night.

Exhausted, he rested his arms on the inactive panel of the Lion, and his head on them. Why were all these things happening? He longed so much for the Castle when he was away, but his return seemed to have brought only trouble. It was not his fault, he understood it, but he couldn’t help thinking that if things had not happened the way they had in Naxzela, none of this would have happened. And so, the cycle of thoughts ended always in the same place: the hatred for Lotor. It was good to escape the feeling of despair for Shiro or confusion for Lance and take refuge in a simple and plain hatred. Maybe that was why the Lion didn’t judge him worthy. Since the last time he had piloted it, he filled himself of new and corrosive emotions. Among them, distrust; every time he was not trying to get the Lion to accept him, he would haunt the dungeon waiting to see if Allura would get close to Lotor again. He refused to speak to him again, after his ridiculous request, but he feared that the princess would visit him once more, and if that happened, he would manage to listen. That wasn’t how a true leader should behave, and he knew it. Everything was so wrong...

A whistle brought him back from his dark thoughts. He looked down and saw Lance in the hangar's ground, gesturing with his arms. The last human being he wanted to see at those moments.

“Heeeeey!”

“What is it? Is there an emergency?” Keith asked, turning on his comm.

“Nah, I just came to see how are you doing. Could be better, huh?” said Lance’s voice in his ear, in a teasing tone. Keith didn’t take comment very well.

“Yeah, yeah. Piss off,” he replied, irritated.

“Oh, jeez, so grumpy. Why are you like that?” Lance asked, frustrated.

“And why do you have to be so nosy? Go now,” Keith replied, turning off the comm.

He saw Lance shake his head, but he stayed there, looking at the Lion, his fingers on his chin, as if considering something. Keith frowned. What was it? He wanted to mock him? He already felt mortified enough for him to put salt on the wound...

Suddenly, Lance made a cone with his hands, and his voice echoed through the hangar.

“Hey, Lion Leader! It's me, your friend Lance, the one who once wanted to be your pilot. Current red paladin? Yeah, I know you know your team. And you know that Red and I are... uh ...” He paused to scratch his head, and then put his hands back in the same position " _…Complex_. You know, sensitive guys, fast, intrepid... it’s hard for us to trust anyone, right?”

 _‘The heck is he doing?’_ Keith thought, completely stunned. Lance cleared his throat and kept yelling.

“Well, it turns out that there’s been a change of circumstances! I would like you to consider the fool you have sitting up there and give him another chance. And I'm the one asking you… it has to mean something, right? I know you are...”

“Lance, what the hell are you trying to do?” Keith had turned on the comm, at the same time his cheeks were staining red.

“I'm giving you a hand. Why don’t you let me go up there, so I don’t have to yell?” Lance replied.

“But what…”

“Come on, Keith. Let me in," asked Lance, resolute.

He froze for a few seconds. He didn’t understand much about what was happening, but instinct told him to just let it happen. He pressed the button of the hatch, and saw Lance go inside the Lion, while his heart leaped inside his chest, expectant. He turned toward the entrance, waiting...

Lance appeared in the cockpit, hands on hips, casual attitude.

“’Sup,” he said, in a jovial tone.

Keith opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of anything. He looked at Lance inquisitively. He coughed and moved one foot, restless. Looking closely, Keith noticed that his posture seemed a bit artificial, as if imitating himself. Was he nervous?

“Well, I came here... to give you a hand. I think the Lion is behaving a bit spoiled, isn’t it? It usually adapts to our problems faster. I think maybe it would be good if the team came to talk to him. We lose nothing by trying… I guess,” Lance was speaking a little louder than usual.

Keith simply looked at him, now with intensity. Yes, he was definitely tense. He felt the already familiar sensation in his stomach intensify, but he was relieved to see that he wasn’t the only one who felt the strange environment. To calm himself, he sat back in the pilot's seat, and looked straight ahead.

“And what do you want to say?” he asked, with neutral voice.

Lance paused behind him. He heard him approach the seat, and get right behind. He heard him take a breath before speaking, now with a softer voice.

“The last time the Lion chose you, we all tried to fly it before you, because you didn’t want to be chosen, remember? I tried for hours, or so it seemed... and nope, nothing. I got really frustrated. I felt that, between you and me, it was unfair that the one who had no interest in taking the chance was the one who obtained it.”

Keith lowered his head. He also considered it unfair, even now. And that time, the Lion had chosen him against his will, in what already seemed a pattern of defiance. Lance continued:

“But it was for the best. Because the Red Lion chose me, I could see things differently. To become the arm that holds the sword is quite different, it makes you see things in perspective. Basically, the role of the red paladin is to be the right hand of Voltron; the hand that executes what the head commands. And when the head is wrong, I can give it a slap, right?”

“Lance, what is all this?” Keith asked, still not looking at him.

“The Black Lion didn’t choose you as a leader expecting you to be perfect. Not even Shiro is, and you know it. But both of you have a team behind you, to tell you what you have done wrong and fix it. When we form Voltron, we have to connect almost as if we were one, and with you we have already achieved it. The whole team believes in you, why don’t you believe in yourself? Maybe it's time you also see things from another perspective.”

Keith reached out to touch the controls, and squeezed them.

“It won’t be of any use if the Lion doesn’t allow me to fly it. This time I asked him, and he refuses. He knows I'm not the right choice," he explained in a low voice.

Quiet. Keith was still staring at the controls, trying to keep his agitated breathing from protruding in the silence of the cockpit. An exasperated sigh was released behind him, and a pair of hands rested heavily on his shoulders. Frozen, he opened his eyes wide, not daring to look back. Lance's voice was heard, now over his head.

“I'm no one to say what the Lions think, Keith, but I know we can’t fool them. They see all of us better than ourselves. And I believe that last time the Black Lion gave us a lesson: the best leader will always be the one who doesn’t want to be.”

“But…”

“But that isn’t enough,” Lance didn’t let Keith interrupt him, and kept talking, “I think a good leader doesn’t want to be one, but is willing to carry the burden for the good of others even though it stinks. Last time, the Lion chose you against your will to show you that _you could_ do it. I think maybe this time it expects you to really believe it. Or that you ask for the right reasons...”

“And what are those reasons? I need it to help the team. We need Voltron, we need to find Shiro... what else does it expect from me?” Keith asked, closing his eyes.

“Maybe for you to have faith in us. Or that you understand that we have faith in you. I’m sure the others agree, but since I can only speak for myself, I should remind you that both of us, when we really put some effort, are a great team. Won’t you let me be your right-hand man again?”

Keith opened his eyes and could see himself, faintly reflected in the glass, and Lance's hands still on his shoulders. From where he touched him, heat waves began to spread through his extremities. He wished for him both to take them off and not. And, at the same time, his words seemed to open a path in his mind, as if they allowed him to see something that was obvious and was always there but that, blinded by his worries, he could not distinguish. He certainly didn’t want to lead, nor did he feel actually capable of leading, but he thought of Shiro. Did he want to carry such a responsibility on his shoulders? No. He knew him well enough to know that Shiro was not an ambitious man, but a real soldier. And as any good soldier, he took his burdens to heart and his commitments with his whole being. Not half-assed, or with doubts. And, in addition, he was wrong thinking that the leader ‘carried the team’. The team carried itself, and sometimes they even had to carry _him_. Wasn’t it due time to return the favor? He had abandoned them using an excuse that seemed acceptable enough, but honestly, wasn’t he behaving like a lost child, when in truth he already knew his place?

Lance's hands released him and Keith could see in the reflection how he opened his arms while raising his voice, to address the Lion this time.

“Well, Lion Boss, as I was saying before, things have changed! Could it be that you are angry at this dumbass because you heard that he was about to sacrifice his life without thinking twice? That’d make us two! But don’t worry, I got you covered. I promise you, as the red paladin, that I won’t allow it to happen again. Every time he tries to do something stupid, Red and I will be there to stop him. Why don’t you give us a chance?”

Lance took a couple of steps and stood, this time, next to Keith, who could not help looking back at him now, while he leaned his arm on the back of the seat and bowed his head to say:

“Seriously, Keith. Why don’t you give us a chance?”

With his heart in his throat and sudden understanding, Keith held Lance's gaze for a few seconds that became eternal. The red paladin pointed to the control panel and nodded.

 _‘Maybe I need you’_ he had told him that night. That was what he meant. Keith wasn’t the only one struggling to find his place, Lance was too. The whole team, actually. And he needed them. He missed them, he trusted them. If his leadership was acceptable to them, it had to be for himself. If Lance wanted to lean on him, he would allow it. And he would have the luxury of leaning on Lance. And Pidge. And Allura, and Hunk. Even on good old Coran. They had to find Shiro, they had an Empire to overthrow, and a universe to defend. But he... he was where he should be.

With the beating of his heart rumbling in his chest, but his mind clear, he rested his arms on the seat and closed his eyes.

 _‘I know what I have to do. Please, give me another chance. I know where I am and with whom. Trust me’_ he thought with all his might.

The panel lights lit up in a familiar violet tone, and then the entire surroundings ignited. The sound of the Lion starting up resounded everywhere, as it raised its head and let out a roar. Lance had to hold on to the seat so he wouldn’t fall, but he did so by howling with joy.

“You did it! It worked! I can’t believe it!” he yowled.

 _‘You made it quite hard, eh’_ Keith thought, giving a gentle pat on the panel. Grinning, he turned around, resting his knees on the seat and his arms on the back, and watched Lance jump happily around.

“You didn’t actually think it would work? Bluffer,” he said, still smiling.

“Well I wasn’t sure if you were going to listen to me. I know you two probably don’t consider me the most reasonable of the team,” said Lance, approaching Keith with a big smile.

“Definitely not. But you promised a lot of things, do you intend to keep them at least?” Keith asked.

Lance snorted and spread his hands.

“I'm a man of my word. But when I say I'll keep you from doing stupid things, I say I'll do just what I can, okay? We know that avoiding it altogether will be impossible...”

“And even so you trust me?” Keith asked. Lance's face changed slightly its expression, and suddenly he could feel in the air how the atmosphere was transforming into something else... something that accelerated his pulse.

Lance rested his arms on the back of the seat as well, in the same position and glued to Keith's. His face was a few inches away, and he ducked a little so that their eyes were at the same height.

“Yeah. I trust you. Do you trust me?” he asked.

That close, Keith could feel the faint smell that so many headaches had given him that week. Fighting with the urge to move away in an act of prevention, he simply nodded, and the moment seemed to lengthen. It felt like any movement they made would break the tension, but for some reason, neither of them dared to do so.

Before looking down, Keith could see that Lance seemed to be fighting with himself about something, again. When he thought about sitting down back in the pilot's seat and end it, a trembling hand rose to the side of his head, touching his hair until it rested on his right cheek. Involuntarily, his eyes widened in surprise and he directed them straight to Lance's, who looked at him with such intensity that seemed to want to see through him.

They were breathing each other's air, or at least that was how Keith felt. This proximity was new to him, and he didn’t even dare to bet on what could happen next. In fact, he couldn’t think much at all. The world seemed reduced to this seat and Lance's hand on his face...

With a sudden movement, Lance put the other hand gently on his other cheek and brought his face close to his hair. He felt the brush of his lips and his nose between his bangs, in what was undoubtedly a kiss... on his forehead. Lance's neck was right in front of his nose and, in his surprise, he could only be aware of the scent once more.

And just at that moment, as if it had been planned like this... Lance's communicator rang in his ear.

Stunned, Keith saw Lance's face move away from him, as he lifted his hands resting on his cheeks and, gently, gave him a friendly pat on the face that made him blink in fright. He could see that Lance's face was flushed before he turned his back on him as he pressed the button near his ear.

“What up, Pidge? ... Aha ... Um, yes, it's off. Yeah, I... I'm with him,” stuttered Lance.

Keith hurried to turn on his. Pidge's voice came to his ear now.

“... was the Black Lion?” she was asking.

“Yes, the Black Lion is active,” Keith confirmed, drawing his voice from somewhere.

“Remarkable timing!” Coran's strong voice made both paladins jump, “just in time, come quickly to the bridge!”

“What happened?” Lance asked.

“There is a message. A message... from Shiro,” answered Pidge's voice.

Keith's heart, after having throbbed so much that day, seemed to stop. Lance looked at him in surprise and, gesturing for them to move, began to descend towards the hatch. Keith followed him in a hurry, wondering if he could handle so many emotions in one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance was quite "wise" here, uh? I don't think it's OOC. I want to really reflect his growth and give him a firm motivation (that motivation is Keith and the place he thinks he has by his side). But he DEFINITELY chickened out at last minute and next chapter will be on his POV again. We need to clear some misunderstandings and see what's up with Pidge! 
> 
> About Lotor, I know the series established that he was trying to mine the quintessence from the rift of Daibazaal and it didn't work. Then his (awesome, beautiful, strong) generals shot him. Well, I'm taking this premise and extending it: I believe there's more to it, but only he knows what. Remember? This fic is called Ouroboros for a reason. We are barely reaching halfway tho.
> 
> Well, thanks for bearing with me and my slow ass. I'll be back next year! (meaning, 2 weeks or so, lol). Thanks a lot for reading, loves, I'd appreciate any feedback, be it here or in [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun)
> 
> Cheers!~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! (lol). And happy birthday to our boi Hunk! Well, I had to stop for a few weeks, but I'm back and boy this one was hard to write. I'm so sorry for the flashback abuse, but I really wanted to talk about Lance's past. It's quite a long chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Also, thank you all for your kind comments! I really appreciate them a LOT. Enjoy!

Barely able to control the tension in his arms, Lance trotted down the corridors with his fingers twitching, while Keith's steps behind him seemed to hammer his chest. And yet, the only emotion he could clearly distinguish at that time was ... _anger_.

He was angry at himself, and on the other hand he was angry at the interruption. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear from Shiro, but it seemed almost like he was sending information at such a crucial moment on purpose. As if he were taking care of his territory, even absent...

No, no. How could he think such awful things about Shiro? He hadn’t done anything to him. Everything came from the rotten cavern of the awakened monster, which reeked of jealousy. "Jealousy and envy are the worst defects", mom used to say. "They transform you into another person. A much uglier one". How true it was, and how much he was missing her now.

They turned a corner, and Lance ventured a fleeting glance back. Keith was crestfallen and frowning. Was he upset? Or was he too worried about Shiro? There was no way to know. He had expected to find his eyes, but maybe it was better that way. At that very moment he felt almost transparent, as if anything would make him spit what he had decided to hide for a while.

He liked Keith. He was attracted to him, although he still didn’t know the exact limits of what that meant yet. He had meditated a lot those days, so much that he felt that his head weighed on him. In general, he tried not to think too much about things, to go with the flow, and stay positive. Thinking too much was a way to fall into a trap, the hole that he feared so much, and that’s why he had developed his method _‘not there’_. But there were always things that required obligatory consideration, and how could he have fallen in love (or whatever it was called what was happening to him) with Keith Kogane, among all the beings in the universe that he had the pleasure of knowing, had to be one of them.

He remembered how his parents and siblings told everyone as an anecdote that his first love had been the Super Red Ninja, from his favorite childhood series. Although he couldn’t remember, his mother told anyone willing to hear her that he sooo wanted to ‘marry him’, and that when the Super Yellow Ninja ended up being his girlfriend at the end of last season, he had cried more for that than for the end of the series itself. Maybe he did have some fixation with red uniforms, after all... But he himself didn’t remember that, and doing a retelling, he could only count female crushes in his teens, and perhaps from time to time an admiration that bordered on adoration for men whom he aspired to become. Shiro, for example, had been his idol during his time at the Garrison: whenever he saw him at the barracks - gentle, brilliant, huge - he pursued him, like many others, although he never dared to speak to him.

But he soon abandoned those reflections. They were useless because he had nothing to compare, since he had never felt anything like this for anyone, regardless of their sex. That was the least of it.

So, to solve the mystery. He could evoke how he met Keith, and discovered that he remembered it as if it had been yesterday, although it had been a couple of years ago already. He was in line as a cadet on his first day, and while waiting for the instructor's words, he entertained himself by peeping at his classmates, relieved to see that everyone looked just as young and nervous as him... well, _almost_ everyone. To his left was a boy shorter than him, with a stern expression. His small, sharp features were contained in a pale face framed by black hair, too long for the standards of the Garrison. After all, it was a military institution. Besides, he thought he looked a little sick, as if he was lacking a few good meals, but it was undeniable that his aura instilled respect: he was not a weakling, and he didn’t look nervous at all. He had an intense look in those dark eyes fixed to the front. Iverson had already started talking to them, but after looking at him for a while, Lance considered it a good opportunity to make an interesting friend.

“Hi, are you going for the pilot course?” he had asked, leaning slightly towards him, with a smile “I do, so it won’t be easy, eh. By the way, I'm Lance McClain.”

The boy only gave him a look of irritation and had looked straight to the front again. Lance had felt himself blush, while processing the contempt he did not expect. Pissed out, he murmured:

“Wow, those manners must make you very popular, buddy.”

“You don’t let me listen. Shut up.” had replied the black-haired boy at last, barely moving his lips.

“He's shouting, you could hear him over a damn carnival...”

“McClain! Feeling confident, huh? You go first for the evaluation test. Step forward” Iverson had yelled. Lance was surprised that he already knew his name, but bravely crossed the corridor before his silent classmates and took the first reflexes test. He did quite well, and felt proud of himself. After all, he was the first one of his family to pursue a military career, and it wasn’t easy to be accepted at the Galaxy Garrison... he was closer to his dream of being a national hero.

His pride lasted until Kogane, the boy on his left, took the test and got the maximum score. Even the instructor was surprised at his results, which proved to be only a sample of his talent to pilot. He wasn’t that brilliant in theoretical classes, but that didn’t matter: he quickly became the ace of his generation. Over time, Iverson even stopped threatening to cut his hair every time he saw him.

Lance had been marked by that first contempt. Now that he thought about it, it was stupid: he’d spoken to him at a bad moment, and he had never tried again, except to challenge and provoke him, which only earned him more scorn. He’d decided on his own that Kogane was a cocky bastard and became obsessed with surpassing him, so much that his classmates laughed at him. That brief first moment had ended up influencing his entire career at the Garrison. When he was left out of the select group of battle pilots, for two days he’d refused to leave the room, until he was dragged by force to the course of cargo pilots. He had never been like this before. His mother was right: envy turned you into another person... a much uglier one. When Keith was expelled and he was given his place, he felt disoriented instead of happy. Lance had turned his competitor into his north, which is a serious mistake for someone who really pretends to win.

He could also remember, clearly, the only time he saw him laugh before his expulsion. It was sunset and he had headed to the terrace, like many others, to breathe some fresh air before returning to the barracks. His heart had jumped when he saw that his idol, Takashi "Shiro" Shirogane was there, talking animatedly with someone. Getting closer Lance saw, by the color of the sleeve, that there was a cadet hidden by the great back of his hero... A few more steps, and he could distinguish him: it was Kogane. Whatever they were talking about, they both laughed heartily. Again, envy bubbled inside him. Then that was the root of the rumors that Keith was only kind to his superiors, since he got along better with an officer than with his fellow cadets... Lance had left the place fuming, with the image engraved on his mind.

 _"I could recognize that mullet anywhere!"_ he had told Pidge and Hunk the night they saw Keith appear and take Shiro away. Lance's heart had leaped at his sight after so many months, again with the sickly appearance of the first day, but his skills and personality intact. This time, he had flatly refused to let him win. It didn’t matter if it was a rescue, a crime or a race: this time he would NOT let him go without at least recognizing him... and so they had all ended up together in an alien castle, galaxies away from home.

Was all this ‘normal’? Was it normal to remember every little thing, every little exchange and every detail of a relationship with a mere classmate? Was it normal to be able to close his eyes and see his face like an unalterable photograph of that first day? Was it normal to distinguish him from a distance, that his eyes followed him wherever he went? The void in his chest aching after Keith was kicked out... what part of it could even be considered normal?

He only endured one night of these questions keeping him awake. On the second day, he just knocked his forehead on the wall and faced the horrible reality: since they had met, his life had revolved around Keith. And nobody had forced him, because his rival wasn’t even aware. He’d followed him by his own free will like a dog asking for attention, he’d done everything to be recognized, accepted... He had been a fool then, and he had remained so until Keith departed with the Blades. And now? He was still a fool, but even worse... now he knew he was a fool _in love_.

He made so much noise in his room after the realization that Hunk knocked on his door, worried. He had to say that his stomach hurt... which wasn’t a lie. Everything hurt. He’d discovered that he was a prisoner of those rare dark eyes and their violet shade, from the very first day. Exactly when had those feelings changed? No idea. But the day they had almost lost him forever, he realized that this thought was intolerable. The day he had entered his room, he’d realized that something in him made his blood boil. And that day on the observation deck, he understood that he wanted to monopolize all of his tears. He had looked right into the abyss, and now he’d have to deal with the consequences.

Having passed the first impression, he decided to bravely face the problem, which was not the fact that Keith was a man (who the hell would even care in space?), or even that he was a teammate, but... the fact that Keith _was Keith_. How could you approach ‘romantically’ someone like him? Flirting wouldn’t work. In fact, it had never actually worked with anyone, he acknowledged, ashamed. He loved to attract attention and flirt with everyone, but he wasn’t sure what was next when someone reciprocated... Would Keith know? Could it be that ... he and Shiro...?

Doubt was overheating his brain, because there was no way for him, Lance McClain, to compete with someone as their leader. Well, he didn’t consider himself a poor choice... but Shiro was Shiro. And besides, just now that they were friends, now that Keith had opened a bit to confide his concerns and worries, that he had shown himself vulnerable in front of him... could he do something without ruining everything? He felt like he had something very fragile in his hands, which could be shattered by any bad move. He was trapped.

So, after all this horrible tangle of thoughts that he was SO not used to, he had made a decision. They had priorities to attend to, like the situation of Lotor and Allura, the disappearance of Shiro and Voltron. He would concentrate on that and let things flow. He’d test the waters, he would act accordingly to the situation, having overcome the stage of making a fool of himself to receive attention, now he’d show his dear rival that he was a man who could be trusted. He went with the best and purest intentions to help him with the Black Lion...

... And he had thrown himself like a hungry animal on his prey at the first chance. He was so glad that his words were effective on Keith, and he was so pleased to see how he smiled at him now, and only at him, in that cockpit... the impulse was irresistible. Halfway through, he regained some composure, and the sane half of his brain made him change the landing course at the last moment. He had been about to kiss him, out of pure instinct. In the end, he had done something almost more shameful. He had put his hands over his face and given him what looked like a simple goodnight kiss given to a small child. A CHILD, NOT AN INTERGALACTIC WAR MATE. The sane half of his brain screamed in his ear that he was stupid over and over.

In conclusion, he owed Shiro one. Instead of being jealous, he should be grateful for the interruption, because at least it would give him time to invent an excuse. When the inevitable moment came when Keith would ask "why?", he could say ... something that he’d think later. At that instant he couldn’t think of anything. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he regretted it. The brush of Keith's soft hair and the warmth of his forehead made him tingle all over, as did the heat and his breathing inside the cell that day, so close that he could have surrounded him with his arms without any effort. He was somehow sure that Keith would fit perfectly in the space between his arms...

… _Quiznak_. Maybe he'd have to put a jellyfish in his head again to think straight.

The noisy door of the bridge returned him violently to reality, and his hands started to twitch again when he saw everyone gathered before the screen. Matt Holt's face was on it, showing concern. Upon seeing them enter, Pidge immediately updated them.

“We received this encrypted transmission a while ago. We haven’t been able to find out where it comes from yet, but... well, let's check it,” she said. She pressed a button, and Shiro's face appeared on the screen. He wasn’t looking well, with deep circles under his eyes and a beard that began to mottle his face. Beyond that, however, he looked intact. His voice sounded on the bridge, exhausted.

"Team, if you are watching this, it means that at least we’ve been able to establish a secure communication channel. Not enough to use the comm, but... for now, it’ll be enough.” Shiro looked dejected. Giving a sigh, as if gaining strength, he looked up again and continued:

"First of all, I owe you an apology, although it’ll never be enough. Please ... forgive me. You have to believe me when I say that I’d never have abandoned you without a good reason. Lotor's words would never have gotten me away from you if it weren’t because, inside me, I know something is wrong. What he said made me see things that I couldn’t... or maybe I didn’t want to acknowledge. I’ve been irresponsible. I didn’t share my concerns on time, thinking it would be temporary. I didn’t want you to doubt me. But now I see that it was a mistake."

Each word seemed to take him a lot of effort. Lance saw that Allura had one hand on her chest and was squeezing it. The whole team looked dismayed.

"I should’ve told you before. Since my escape, my mind hasn’t returned to normal. Not only for the pain, but I feel like my own memories are sometimes alien and distant. Until now, I assumed it was just a sequel to the situation I went through, but instead of improving, each day gets worse. I have nightmares, and sometimes I wake up without being able to organize my own thoughts well. I... I don’t know how to explain it better. But this made me start tying up loose ends. Please, listen to what I’m going to explain, and I hope you believe it."

He paused, as if he were arranging his ideas before he spoke again.

"I left thinking that I’m putting you in danger. My first thought was to get away as quickly as possible from the castle, guessing that it was possible that my head was being used by the Empire to spy on you. If so, I had already given them enough information..."

“What I supposed,” muttered Pidge, shaking her head.

"... But, during these days, I began to suspect something else. If the Empire could seize me so easily, they would have already. If they could take control of me, they’d never have allowed Naxzela's result. And if they saw our movements through me, they’d have found me already. So ... I have come to another conclusion, and that’s why I’m sending you this message."

Shiro ran his hands over his face, and when he opened his eyes, he looked with disgust at his Galra arm, which he pointed out.

"I'm sure this is not the only thing they did to me. My most recurrent nightmare is my escape, and it's always the same. I wake up, get up and suddenly see myself, another me in front of me, prisoner, tied up... I always thought it was part of the shock. Everything was confusing in that escape. I believed that luck had brought me back to you after I was about to die, but now... I've thought about it better. The first time I fled, it was only because Ulaz rescued me, I could never have done it alone. The second time, I was on my own. How did I do it? I can’t explain it, I don’t even remember it well. The Galra leave nothing to chance ... And that's why what Lotor said made sense to me. ‘There is no way to escape from a laboratory... unless they let you go.’ That's what I think happened. They let me leave on purpose."

“Impossible!” exclaimed Coran and Matt at the same time. Lance felt his mouth dry. He was sure he wouldn’t like what they were about to hear.

"Of course, the question would be ‘why?’. If, as I said before, they haven’t extracted information from me nor managed to control me... what is the use of letting me run away? Maybe they meant to let time pass and kidnap me just like last time to extract the information from me. It's a possibility, but the nightmares tell me something else. I know it sounds... impossible... but, what if my nightmare is true? What if the ‘other me’ was actually there?"

Shiro giggled, but his face looked genuinely anguished.

"I know this sounds like crazy talk, but listen to me. Before leaving, I went to talk to Matt. I asked him to tell me about things from our past, as he remembered them. And I discovered ... I discovered that I could hardly remember. Like an incomplete movie. I already knew that something was wrong, the day we found him. Seeing him again made me very happy, but that happiness came from somewhere that I can’t distinguish, as if it wasn’t mine. Like... an echo. From that day, the nightmares worsened. And now, I think I understand it. Team, I'm afraid... I'm afraid Shiro never came back to you. I know how it sounds, but I think the Takashi Shirogane that you all know is still imprisoned within the Galra Empire."

Exclamations of bewilderment bounced off the bridge. Shiro had remained silent looking at his knees. Matt was going to speak, but then the leader continued.

"I’m not relying only on nightmares and assumptions. Although the idea is ridiculous, I decided to test something. I spoke with... a friend. I asked him to analyze my arm, and extract the information contained in it. Remember how we found the Blade of Marmora’s base?"

Lance remembered. In his first escape, the Galra ally Ulaz introduced the coordinates to their base on Shiro’s arm, and he only remembered it some time later. Thanks to that, they were able to join forces with them. He looked at Keith, and saw that his lips were tight and his eyes wide open.

"Inside this arm... there’s nothing. The data that Ulaz put is not there, when it should be. So... I think... ah, I know how ridiculous it must seem, but I think the second imprisonment wasn’t to change my arm for another. If my memories are diffuse, if this arm is empty, if the Galra let me flee on purpose... I'm afraid it's because I'm not ... me?"

“What the hell ... has he gone crazy?” Matt seemed to be in shock. Lance wanted to think like that, but the horrible reality seemed to crush him. If he hadn’t listened to Lotor's testimony about the Galra experiments, he’d never have believed it. From the faces of Allura and Keith, he realized that they must be thinking the exact same thing. The question was… why?

"I'm trapped. I can’t go back with you, because I still believe that I put you in danger. I thought about going directly to find the laboratory from which I escaped, but luckily... I was dissuaded. If what they wanted to do with me was to become a spy, going there would be a favor for them. I can’t do anything. I'm so sorry, team..."

Shiro put his hands over his face. The situation had him desperate.

"I absolutely don’t want you to go and intervene a Galra laboratory. It’s risky and unnecessary. However, there may be answers somewhere, and for me... they are important. If you could help me find out any intel, I'd be grateful. I'll take care of the rest. I have no idea of where to start, but I have some vague memories that may be useful. If the names Mebarak and Alej tell you something, maybe I can start there. I'm sorry I did this and have the nerve to ask for your help... I'm sorry I left at this time. But honestly, I don’t know what else to do... I wish more than anything in the world to be free to return to you. Please tell Matt I'm sorry I scared him. That I'm sorry... he couldn’t meet Shiro yet."

Even through the screen, Lance could see that Matt's eyes were bright.

"And to Keith. I'm sorry to make you carry the weight of the Black Lion again. But I'm sure you can do it, and that's the only thing that relieves me. Maybe my word isn’t worth anything anymore, but I believe in you, and the whole team. Don’t lose sight of you mission, your priority is to put an end to the Galra domain, and free the universe from its tyranny. Everything else is secondary. I will communicate again as soon as I can, but for now... this is all. I apologize once more."

Shiro gestured to someone outside the field of vision, and the image cut off. The team was silent. Matt had brought his knuckles to his eyes, but he had recovered.

“I can’t believe Shiro is doing this. How could he even consider something so crazy?” he said.

“Did I misunderstand, or did he imply that he thinks he’s a... clone of himself?” Hunk asked, completely stunned.

“That’s what I understood too. If something like that is possible, it’d mean that since we faced Zarkon, the ‘real’ Shiro is a prisoner and all this time we had a... a...” Pidge muttered, with a chill. She looked like she was about to puke.

“But that's ridiculous. I mean, why would they even…? Also, clones? What is this, Star Wars? C’mon!” Hunk seemed to refuse to even consider the possibility.

“...ble.”

“Certainly, the Galra are capable of unimaginable aberrations... however, the possibility that they have created an exact copy of our Number One seems impossible to me. Completely absurd!” exclaimed Coran.

“… possible.”

Lance looked at Keith and saw him muttering, without the others noticing.

“We know that the Galra have been experimenting with all their prisoners for millennia, but Shiro not only had his appearance, but... the character and memories. Hell, he piloted the Black Lion!” exclaimed Matt.

“IT'S POSSIBLE!” Keith barked suddenly. Everyone remained silent looking at him. With contained fury, he took three steps to face Allura.

“It's time for you to share what Lotor told you,” he said.

Allura had paled, while looking with genuine horror at Keith.

“What... how do you know...?”

“That doesn’t matter. I listened to the conversation you had with Lotor. Everything he told you has to do with what’s happening.”

“ _We_ did,” Lance looked at Allura, uncomfortable but determined. It wasn’t worth hiding it anymore. “I’m sorry Allura, but we were there. You said you don’t have secrets with us... I think it's time we talk.”

In turn, Hunk and Pidge looked at each other as if understanding something.

“Now I get it. Pidge saw you all that day. We installed a more modern surveillance system and, well, the registry... we expected an explanation, but we didn’t know how to ask for it,” explained Hunk, playing with his fingers, nervous. Pidge nodded again, silently.

Lance realized that the team was in trouble. A lot of things were poorly executed and now they had reasons to distrust each other. Allura had put her hands to her face, embarrassed. Poor Coran looked at her like a disillusioned father.

“Sorry. Forgive me, it's not that I wanted to hide it ... I was going to tell you everything eventually...”

“When? This was days ago,” said Keith.

“I wanted to talk to him... I was sure that by talking to him alone I could achieve more. If he believed that I’m not a threat... that he could fool me…” said Allura.

“Princess, why? We had decided that it would not happen... that we would seek the right moment. Lotor is dangerous...” every note in Coran's voice was tinged with disappointment.

“I know, but I thought I could on my own... I thought...” stuttered Allura.

“Lotor has information about your time. I understand that must be important to you.” Keith's voice was cold. “But now we need to fix this mess. Shiro is not crazy, and you know it.”

Allura's gaze was a mixture of guilt and anger. However, head down, she proceeded to tell the crew and Matt everything she had heard from the Galra prince: how he himself, if what he said was true, was an experiment of the Galra, and how they had dominated mental manipulation to the point of being able to insert false memories. The team reacted just like Keith and Lance that day: with horror, disgust, and worry. Matt was particularly furious.

“No way, NO-WAY... That's why people are kidnapped?! What good is it?!” he said, banging his table.

“It could be. Think of the advantages of introducing spies mentally manipulated by them. They would be perfect, if not even they are aware of what they actually are,” said Pidge, pale.

“Disgusting,” Matt spat.

“No matter. It's not worth discussing this now,” said Keith. "The only thing that matters is that, if it's true, Shiro may be trapped somewhere... and we have to rescue him.”

“But we do not even know where to start. He could be anywhere,” Coran mumbled.

“I think it will be faster to defeat the entire Galra Empire than to look for him...” Hunk couldn’t stop playing with his fingers.

“We have a starting point. He just gave us names, right? I know Kolivan can help us with that," Keith said, determined not to back down.

“Well... there’s another option. On board,” said Lance. The team looked at him. He didn’t want to admit it, but apparently the moment to accept help from the enemy had arrived “Lotor knows about the inner workings of the Empire, right? Also, if he was there himself... maybe he knows more than what he told you, Allura.”

“No. He's going to take advantage of the situation to make us fall into a trap, I'm sure,” Keith growled.

“Keith, you know I don’t like the idea, but what else can we do? If we have the information right here, it will be better than looking for it outside," Lance replied.

Everyone was silent for a moment. Lance feared that Keith would lose his head, like so many other times when it came to Shiro, but he could see that the paladin was making gigantic efforts to maintain his composure. He had his arms crossed, and he was looking at each of the team members as he rocked restlessly on his own feet, as if he were holding up all his energy, but clearly waiting. This time, he expected the team to make a decision, and that was new. Their eyes briefly met and Lance only managed to make a small gesture of approval. Keith looked to the floor, still waiting. The renewed beating of his heart reminded Lance once again who was the object of his affections.

“Lance is right” said Allura, finally. “It will be necessary to speak with Lotor. All of us, this time. However... we have to be cautious. We can’t give the Empire any opportunity to meddle in our plans, and certainly, we can’t forget that our mission is bigger than each one of us...”

“But ...” Keith was ready to protest, but Allura made a gesture to him.

“Yes, our goal is bigger. But we are not the Blade of Marmora, nor the Galra. In this team nobody is replaceable, and if there is a possibility that one of our members is in trouble... we have to help. But with caution. First, we have to check that the problem actually exists,” she concluded. She and Keith stared at each other for a few seconds, and he nodded silently.

“I hate to say this, but... shouldn’t we start by confirming if this message is genuine? Someone was with him, did you notice? What if they forced him? Or... if it's really a Galra trap? Since we are in the field of sci-fi already, the possibilities are way too many...” Hunk said, dragging the words as if he didn’t really want to say them.

“Shiro mentioned a friend. I can only think of one ‘friend’ who could help him with something like this,” said Pidge.

“Who? I could have helped him...” Matt muttered, offended.

The members of the Voltron team looked at each other, and all said at once:

“... Slav.”

* * *

  
Lance was now on the observation deck. He’d decided to flee from the pressure of the bridge as soon as they dispersed. Matt had disconnected with the promise to help in any way he could, but he let the team fix their dilemmas in private. Keith and Lance had had to apologize to Allura and explain what they were doing there that day (and Keith had omitted all information about his mother). Then, Allura had talked to Hunk and Pidge, also to apologize, and they had talked to Lance and Keith to explain how they saw them. And everyone had apologized to old Coran, for... everything. It was a circle of distrust that had extended for four days, which certainly hit the morale of the team, which had never before faced a similar situation. They formally promised never to keep secrets from each other again, but Lance was left with the feeling that the rough edges had not just been smoothed out. And there was still the matter of Pidge's malevolent gaze. Lance escaped when he noticed that she was staring at him, while standing as a bodyguard behind Keith. He was ashamed to be so transparent. He would have to face her... at some point. Later.

He was the first one to say goodnight to the rest and pretended to go to his room. However, he headed straight for the observation deck, and approached the large window, waiting.

He had no certainty that Keith was even going to appear there, but there was something bittersweet in the wait and its uneasiness. Nor did he know exactly what they’d talk about, but instinct told him it was necessary. Now that the team was hit by such shocking news, he wanted to be of help to their newly reassigned leader. He didn’t know how, but ... he wanted to be there. The stars flickered, and the machinery of the room hummed softly. Lance watched the great scenery, lulled by the sounds around him, as he tried to calm his thoughts and doubts _. Will he come? Will he not? Will he come?_

The door opened behind him, and he felt paralyzed. _He came_. He turned with one last hint of doubt, which was dissipated. Keith was standing in the doorway, looking surprised. For a second, Lance thought he would turn around and leave, but no. With a neutral expression, he walked step by step towards the window.

“You're here,” Keith said.

“Yes, it's that... I thought... err... I can go if you wanna…” stuttered Lance, forgetting all the winner phrases he had thought while waiting. Keith didn’t answer.

Feeling that the expectation was transforming into disappointment, Lance decided to head out and leave the leader alone. He barely gave a step, when a quick hand took him by the sleeve.

“You dragged me into this mess,” Keith said in a low voice. Lance, surprised, tried to find his eyes, but he was looking away.

“Hey, I...”

“Now you have to help me continue.”

His hand tightened the sleeve with more force than necessary. Lance tried to find the precise words, but couldn’t think of anything. He wasn’t even sure if his voice would come out. He realized that he was watching at a weirder phenomenon than any that the universe could offer through that window: Keith Kogane was asking for help. Not only that, but he added in a low voice and as if against his own will:

“I don’t think... I can handle this by myself.”

The lone wolf. The ace pilot, the Black Paladin, agent of the Blade of Marmora. Half human, half galra. His rival and his obsession, suddenly appeared _so small_. He saw him for what he was: an eighteen years old boy, like him. Shorter than him... and also lonelier. Suddenly, he was the pale kid from that first day, but this time there wouldn’t be hate and contempt. This time he would do things right.

_To hell with words._

In one move, Lance surrounded Keith with his free arm. He put his hand on the base of his neck, and simply pulled him towards himself, so that he leaned on his shoulder. He expected a push, a complaint, or even a kick, but he didn’t care. There were things that were better expressed without words.

_‘Everything will be fine’_

What he didn’t expect was for Keith to let go of his sleeve and cling to his back with both hands, exhaling. Resting his forehead on his shoulder. Also communicating without words.

_‘Thank you’_

He had guessed right, Lance thought vaguely, as if dreaming, while he softly tightened his hold. Indeed, he fit perfectly in his arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO KISS?! What a scam, right?  
> I was actually a bit scared to share this chapter, because I really think my depiction of "bi Lance" is quite shallow, and maybe I could have done better. But since he has been stated by the VLD staff to be an unexperienced, innocent guy, who wouldn't know how to react if his flirting actually worked, I didn't wanna go overboard with it adding unlikely chunks of info in my flashblacks. I wanted it to be clear, but not a big deal. And yes, I'm a "bi Lance/gay Keith" believer. So I'm just gonna leave this chapter here and hope for the best (and that I didn't piss anyone off).
> 
> And in defense of my cliché first love, who didn't have a crush on any of the Power Rangers, huh?? I SURE DID.
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading, loves! <3 Remember you can also find me burning away the best years of my life on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun)
> 
> Xoxo~


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, mild sexual content by the end of the chapter. Not that much, honestly. As I said before, the fic may go from T to M, but I'll judge on the way. If that's not your thing, don't worry, I'll tag on the beginning of each chapter the content so you avoid it if you came for the messy story I'm untangling lol. Enjoy!

For how long was it acceptable to rest in the comfort of a warm hug without it being awkward? Keith didn’t know. Since he had arrived at the castle he had given and received several hugs, but never one like this.

He had surrendered to Lance's kindness. He’d vocalized what frightened him, had succumbed to the stress of the situation and now his forehead rested in the warm space between the shoulder and neck of his ‘good friend’. He clung to his back tightly, as if holding on him could stop all the things that were happening. Of course, that wasn’t possible, but from all the points where they touched arose a feeling of generalized well-being that enveloped him, amplified by the soft aroma that he could perceive now from its prime source, and that for some reason pleased him so much. As if they really weren’t adrift in space, little, fragile humans facing the most dangerous galactic empire known. The hand of the sleeve he had released had remained in the air for a few seconds, as if uncertain where to place itself, until Lance had lifted it and supported it in the curve of his back, softly. Not pushing, just surrounding him.

Until that moment he had put aside shame and all other similar feelings, simply accepting the shelter offered, but that palm resting on his spine provoked a chill that he feared could be perceived, and he began to feel restless. As the seconds passed, he was increasingly aware of their breathing, and his pulse was beginning to be erratic. He was sure he would start blushing at any moment... would he dare to look up and see those blue eyes up close again? It would be the second time that day. In the cockpit of the Black Lion he had held that gaze until...

He was definitely blushing. Without knowing what to do, he only managed to turn his head outwards. No, he wouldn’t be able to look up, and now he wouldn’t know how to get out of there either. Why did he have so little control over his blood pressure?

A pat on his neck made him wince. Lance had given it to him as a sign of separation and had distanced himself a few inches from him, perhaps trying to find his eyes, without success. After a few seconds, he simply said:

“Hey. Let's talk.”

He went to the window and sat next to it, looking out. Keith imitated him, although each step cost him some effort, noticing that the current situation was almost a recreation of the episode of the jacket, which did nothing to calm his altered nerves.

He sat facing Lance, the window by their respective sides, and he also looked out. The landscape that night was incredible: they were flying over a mainly gaseous planet, surrounded by a belt that seemed to be made of millions of small iridescent crystals, and that strongly reflected the light of the star of its system. It filled the deck with cold colors, like a fish tank, and Keith felt almost underwater, watching the mesmerizing swirl of gases from the planet’s visible surface, momentarily distracting him from his situation. The universe so extensive, and their problems so narrow... He blinked quickly remembering that he had an interlocutor in front and looked at Lance, noting that he was watching him with crossed arms and a soft expression on his face. How long had he been looking? A little embarrassed, Keith lowered his eyes. Lance's voice came to him softly.

“So… how are you doing?”

First question, and Keith was not sure what to say.

“…I don’t know. There’s too much going on,” he finally replied.

“Yup, way too much. But, you know... about Shiro...?” Lance ventured to ask.

Shiro. There were so many things crossing his mind about him, that he still couldn’t agree with himself. On one hand, what they had heard seemed an absurd tale, almost a joke of poor taste. On the other, he believed blindly in his good judgment, and knew that Shiro would never joke or invent something like that. But accepting the possibility that the story was true had too many consequences that he didn’t feel quite ready to confront. It meant that they had had an infiltrator for months, whose whereabouts were also now unknown. It meant that the real Shiro was a prisoner, if he wasn’t dead. It meant that everything he took for granted could collapse like a castle of cards... he couldn’t believe in anything.

His thoughts must have been reflected on his face, for Lance said:

“Hey, calm down. I'm confused too, but... I think we should go slow with this. Start with what we know, maybe...”

“And what do we really know?” Keith asked, genuinely desperate to find a starting point.

“Well... I'm not sure either,” acknowledged Lance. He thoughtfully looked out the window for a few seconds, while Keith felt the weight of his thoughts crushing him. Lance made his characteristic gesture of running his hand through his hair. Keith was beginning to visualize a pattern. Apparently, he did it when he was troubled.

“Ok, let's think first about what happened, from when we lost Shiro because of Zarkon and came back, until now. First, facts... assumptions later, alright?” proposed Lance. Keith nodded.

They made a recount of what had happened since Shiro's disappearance. The Black Lion had been empty, and his paladin was nowhere to be found. Those distressing days were some of the worst Keith could remember. Afterwards, Shiro had returned, notoriously affected. However, he recovered incredibly fast, and returned to the command of the team. They remembered their battles, Lotor's chase, the opinions of Shiro about it. They remembered the departure of Keith and the change of paladin for the Black Lion, who didn’t offer any major resistance. The acts of diffusion, and finally, the great battle of Naxzela. It seemed impossible that all that had happened without their leader being present...

Both boys sighed in unison. Lance said:

“Keith, you're the one who knows him best. Don’t you...”

“I'm not the one who knows him best,” Keith interrupted. He looked out once more. “I don’t know much more than you about him.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve been buddies since the Garrison...” Lance said, in a slightly bitter tone.

“Buddies…? I don’t think so,” said Keith, with crude sincerity. Lance opened his eyes wide and then frowned.

“Are you telling me you weren’t friends...?”

“Well…”

“Meaning... you were _more than friends_?” Lance asked, in a strange tone that Keith didn’t know how to interpret. In truth, he didn’t know how to interpret the question either.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well... it's just that... if you weren’t ‘friends’, even though you seemed so close... then I thought... it's not that I wanna stick my nose, but... maybe...?”

Lance's babble made absolutely no sense for Keith, but a cold sensation similar to shame began to tingle from the nape of his neck to his forehead. It couldn’t be that... Lance was referring... Keith looked with total distrust at the red paladin, and now it was his turn to blush.

“Okay, forget it,” he hastened to say.

“But…”

“No, seriously. It's not important, next!" Lance's words were fast and awkward, and Keith noticed that he was flushed to the ears. Despite his confusion, that discovery provoked him the already familiar feeling of having something alive in his stomach. It was good to know that Lance could blush up to his ears from time to time, and he wasn’t the only one suffering for it... They both looked out the window again, as if to leave the uncomfortable moment behind, immersed in their own reflections. Suddenly, Keith said:

“Anyway, it was you who noticed that there was something wrong with him. With Shiro, I mean.”

“Oh, well ... yeah, but I never thought it would be _that_ bad,” Lance acknowledged.

“You said he wasn’t acting like himself, and it turned out to be true,” Keith said, disheartened.

“And I told you I never meant it literally. And now it turns out that it could be... _literally literal_... ahh, _quiznak,_ ” Lance sighed once more, confused.

“I didn’t notice anything. Everything was fine for me. That's why I tell you that I don’t know him as well as you think... he never confided any concern to me,” Keith recalled, almost in a whisper.

“Hey, it's fine. That’s our man, right? He has gone through a lot and never asks for help. He never complains, how could we guess?”

“But I promised that I’d rescue him as many times as it takes. I promised, and here I am... not knowing where to start,” confessed Keith, dejected. Lance's gaze was intense, but his eyes strayed from his with an expression similar to sadness.

“When did you make that promise?” he asked, looking at his knees.

“When he came back from...” Keith began to say, until he realized that then it was possible that this promise had never really been made. Not to the real Shiro, at least.

He put a hand to his face, and squeezed his eyes tight. The idea that there could be two Shiros was too complex to understand, and implied reordering each memory and each interaction, marking a before and after that wasn’t even proven.

A hand on his shoulder made him open his eyes again, surprised. Lance had changed position, now leaning on one of his knees and forward, to be closer to Keith. His voice was warm and reassuring.

“We'll find him. If this is true, and if Shiro is still a prisoner, I assure you that we’ll rescue him.”

Why could Lance make such promises without any basis? And worse, why did he feel like he believed him? Every time Lance promised or assured him something, he felt it was possible. The rational part of his mind told him to distrust, that they were mere empty promises, but a new voice, a youthful and naïve one, seemed to drink the warm words like water in the desert.

The hand left his shoulder, but Lance remained in the same position, with one knee on the floor and his arm now resting on his other thigh.

“Anyways... we still have to check if this is actually true. And even if it was, what are we gonna do with this ‘other Shiro’?” he asked, frowning with concern.

“D... d...” a sneeze interrupted Keith's response “… Ugh, don’t know.”

“Bless you,” said Lance, with a chuckle. Then he added: "The view here is incredible, but it's cold as hell... why do you like to come?”

It was a quiet place, rarely visited, far from the usual fuss. One would think that such a small group of people inside a huge castle couldn’t make as much noise, but oh they could. From shrieks to explosions, noise was a daily issue... besides, he used to come here accompanied by Shiro. Not very often, but they did when they had things to discuss. He thought that neither of these reasons would be very well received as an explanation, so instead of responding, he asked in turn:

“And why do _you_ like to come here?”

Lance opened and closed his mouth, and then smiled nervously. He changed position again, now resting his back on the window, spreading his legs and crossing his arms. They were close enough for their knees to touch. He turned his head towards Keith and said:

“I come here exclusively to speak with our leader.” He made a gesture with his hand, like simulating a telephone. “Operator, could you communicate me with Keith Kogane? Yes, the dumb one... I need to remind him that he should talk to someone from time to time or he’ll forget how to speak...”

Keith extended one leg to kick him, while Lance eluded it, laughing. Beyond the joke, he felt his cheeks light again as he understood that there was a sincere explanation in those words. Lance came to this freezer exclusively to talk to him. Maybe he thought this was his natural habitat, or something like that.

“You can talk to me anywhere. It doesn’t have to be here,” Keith muttered, barely moving his mouth. To make matters worse, he sneezed again. The atmosphere was particularly cold that night.

“Bless ya. Eh... good to know. The rest of the team will also want to talk to you, Keith,” Lance replied.

Keith's face darkened. Ah, the team... Did he have what it took to keep the team cohesive under these terrible circumstances? Again, concern had to be marked in each part of his face, because this time it was Lance's foot that gave him a tap and returned him to reality.

“Don’t stress over the team. Even if we fight, we’ll always fix it. Also, we have the Black Lion back! With the appearance of Voltron things are going to improve without a doubt, so you... seriously Keith, bless you, but I think you should wear something warmer.”

He had been interrupted by a third sneeze. Looking awkwardly for a handkerchief or something similar, Keith mumbled 'I'm sorry'.

“I'm going to look the other way. I'm not suggesting that you clean your nose with your sleeve, but if you need to...” Lance teased.

“I won’t!” Keith replied, taking out of a pocket the handkerchief he sometimes wore to cover his neck or nose.

Lance watched the whole operation with curiosity, and suddenly seemed to think about something. He uncrossed his arms and said, with studied indifference:

“Maybe we should apply our first year’s survival classes in this... extreme weather.”

“What are you talking about?” Keith asked, folding the handkerchief and putting it back in one of the compartments of his belt.

“You know... harsh weather, limited sources of heat... you have to improvise,” said Lance, and gave himself a few pats on the legs. Clearly, he was suggesting that Keith sit there.

“Wha… no,” Keith replied, shocked at the suggestion. There were thousands of reasons why it was a bad idea, but the main one was that he wasn’t sure he could without his pulse going off. Maybe eventually killing him.

“Hey, the instructor said that in extreme cases shame is certain death for fools,” said Lance, opening his jacket as if to welcome him.

“This is not an extreme case! If you're cold, just go to bed!" Keith replied, red faced.

Lance released his jacket, and exhaled uneasily.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna go. I'm sure I’m going to spend the whole night staring at the ceiling thinking about conspiracy theories. I prefer the freezer, in that case, so long as you stay too,” said the boy with total sincerity. Keith felt the hair on the back of his head stand, and not because of the cold. How could he say such things...?

Lance's profile was shadowed against the light, but his sharp nose and lashes stood out anyway from this close. His neck ended in a prominent and fine collarbone, always in view, striking, except when he closed his characteristic jacket. The warm jacket with its soft lining and homely aroma, which he had over his head a few days ago... It was tempting, no doubt, the idea of resting on such an unexpected and pleasant set of human and clothes. But the problem came below. Where did he intend to locate him? On his legs? _Between_ his legs?

Oh no. That would offer several degrees of moral and physical dilemmas for Keith.

“Well, the offer is not due limited time, so... if you change your mind, let me know,” Lance tapped his thighs again.

“Stop doing that, seriously.”

“If you wake up being sick tomorrow, let it be known that it was your pride that...” Lance began to say, but stopped abruptly when Keith sat next to him, sticking to his arm.

“This is enough,” said the black paladin, crossing his arms.

Lance seemed to lose his voice for a couple of seconds, but he let out a snort, as if he could not cope with his teammate's ideas, and opened his jacket.

“Not yet,” he said, and put an arm behind Keith, covering at least part of his back with the cloth. He put his hand on his shoulder, and pulled him close.

“What…?” Keith couldn’t even manage to protest while being dragged.

“Now it is,” said Lance, satisfied.

Keith's head had almost hit the side of Lance's chin, who rested his cheek on his hair. The ridicule of the position in which they were had him in shock, so it took Keith a few seconds to process the absurdity of it all. They were sitting like a couple in a stupid romantic movie. Besides, it wasn’t of much help, he couldn’t cover him that much, _it was unnecessary_. Everything was unnecessary, the posture, the fact that he was there, everything they spoke... What had he come for? Why had he come after the jacket, the cell, the kiss on the forehead? Why had he hugged Lance as if he had to cling to the edge of a cliff? Again, _why couldn’t he just stand up and leave._..?

Why, why, why. All the sleeping questions came up again. Why was he so comfortable? Why was another person's touch so nice, why did he remember it every night? More and more questions, and no answers whatsoever. Suddenly, Lance's body shook in silent laughter, and he took it as mockery. He knew how awkward he felt, then.

“Why…?” he managed to ask, but stopped when he noticed that Lance tensed and held his breath. Did he fear that question? Keith realized that something subtle was happening between them. There was a fuzzy line that divided the acceptable from the untouchable. He understood that if he asked 'why', he would cross it. He wanted to know, but he also feared the answer and apparently, he wasn’t the only one.

Keith didn’t know how much to take of what he was receiving. He didn’t know what to give in return. Was Lance like that with everyone? Perhaps he, who was just learning how to keep friends, who was a distant and difficult person to deal with, was overcomplicating things. Maybe reading too much on everything for his own selfish sake. Maybe asking 'why' was a bad idea. Maybe... staying in the comfort of silence was better. Taking advantage of that moment of unexpected warmth and safety. Thinking about something else. Accepting what was being given.

From some corner of his mind, he could hear a distant _'bad idea'_ , but he ignored it. Instead of protesting, instead of separating from him, he exhaled slowly and changed the position of his hands, now holding his own elbows. Finally, dropping his weight on Lance's shoulder and in a low voice, Keith changed the question:

“Do you think Allura is still upset?”

Lance paused, as if surprised, but seemed to breathe again. Relief? Keith felt him accommodate his head, settling down to answer in a soft voice:

“Of course she’s upset. But at least she has to divide the anger in two... I think we're more likely to survive.”

They both chuckled briefly, but Keith was still worried.

“I don’t know what to say to them. I don’t want the team to lose confidence, but...”

“Bah, Pidge and Hunk felt like us. They knew that something was going on, but they were waiting for an explanation at the right time. It happened, it passed, we no longer have secrets, the end.”

“But I bet they all feel betrayed,” Keith refuted.

“Nah, they'll forget it. Honestly, I think that Allura has the biggest drama going on with Coran. The poor guy had to take care of that piece of lead all these days just so she wouldn’t come near him, and well... you know,” said Lance. At such close range, his voice had taken on a more intimate tone and seemed to rumble in Keith's chest. _Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea..._

“I guess. But I hope this won’t affect Voltron,” Keith said, tense.

“Easy, leader. It will take more than this to separate Voltron's paladins," Lance stated, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly with the hand that held him.

_Bad idea, bad idea ... Very bad idea._

They were silent for a long time after that. Keith felt that it was the right moment to stand and go to his bedroom, as the next would be a long day. He felt a little better by expressing some of his concerns, but in his current position it was impossible for him to be calm, above the persistent tingling that ran through his body upon receiving Lance's warmth. And yet... truth be told, despite everything, he wasn’t uncomfortable _at all_ , and that bothered him. A lot.

Unaccustomed as he was to physical contact, he couldn’t believe that his body accepted this arrangement with such ease. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t even want to move. How many chances he had to stay like that all-night long...? _No, wait, what was he thinking?_

“Keith, did you fall asleep?” Lance asked in a whisper. It was the opportunity to leave, he just had to reply…

All he had to do was to reply, but instead of saying "no", he simply closed his eyes and remained silent. Lance said nothing for a few minutes, perhaps trying to listen to his rhythmic breathing. He gave a little snort.

“Good. I don’t intend to be the first one to fall asleep… never again” he whispered.

 _‘Never again?’_ Keith thought, grateful that in that position Lance couldn’t feel the accelerated bumps of his chest. The hand that held him moved gently on his shoulder: a soft caress that sent imperceptible chills through his body.

“We'll be fine,” Lance finally whispered in his hair, sleepy.

Magic words. Again, he felt a lump in his throat, because every doubt and every fear now hung from those simple words. Since the deception had gone so far, he tried to fake as best as he could the breathing of someone who sleeps despite the agitation of his chest, until the change in Lance’s weight and his more distant exhalations told him that he had really fallen asleep.

A long time passed and the questions continued to intersect in his mind, while he had to put all his weight on Lance to counteract his. Perhaps that exercise exhausted him, but the more the minutes passed and as he sank deeper into Lance's shoulder, less seemed to matter everything else. Little by little he fell into a warm void, and he wasn’t even aware of when he fell asleep.

* * *

  
“...ith… Keith… hey…”

Lance moved his shoulder and Keith woke up startled, sitting up suddenly. He realized that his waist hurt and his leg had gone numb. He tried to drag it, but it hurt too much.

“Wait, wait... don’t touch me, my arm is asleep,” said Lance in turn, with a pained face.

“Oh... I'm sorry,” Keith said, guiltily. He tried to shake his leg, but it still stung everywhere, so he contracted his face.

“No worries, ouch ... it will pass in a minute... ouch, ouch.” Lance tried to recover the mobility of the arm without much success.

Between complaints and curses they finally managed to stand up and stretch. Having fully recovered the notion of the place and circumstances, an awkward silence was falling between both boys.

“How long were we here?” Keith asked, without looking at Lance.

“Several hours, I think,” the other replied, “but I have nothing on me to verify”

Silence again.

“I guess I don’t really have to say it, but... this is... confidential,” Keith said.

“What? That you snore?” Lance asked, raising his arms to stretch. The skin of his abdomen appeared when his clothes got up, making the situation even more complicated for Keith, who had trouble blinking at the moment.

“I don’t snore! _You do_!” he claimed.

“Lies, how would you know?” Lance asked suspiciously. Keith blushed and headed for the door, with Lance asking him to stop behind him.

They went out into the hall and as the Castle remained silent, they lowered their voices. Cautiously, they went to the rooms area, and reached the corner where they would have to separate, still not knowing how much time they had before the rest began to arise. The damn corner that seemed to leave Keith speechless lately. Once again both were there, awkward and swaying on their feet, but Lance tried to take the initiative.

“Well then, good night, or good morning... who knows. See you in a few hours, I suppose,” he said.

“I suppose,” Keith repeated foolishly, because he was gathering courage to say something else. But Lance was already turning to go to his room, he had to be quick.

“Wait,” he said, making Lance jump startled and look at him curiously. Those tired blue eyes never seemed to lose their vibrant sparkle, Keith managed to vaguely note while fixing his in that gaze.

“T... thanks. For everything,” he muttered, feeling for the thousandth time that night that blood was rising to his face. But it was necessary, and fair. No one else had done so much for him and his peace of mind.

He could see how Lance's curious expression turned into surprise, and then into a shy smile. It seemed like he was going to take a few steps back, but his feet stopped dead, and he simply replied:

“You're welcome, Boss. Anytime. I'm serious.”

He retreated quickly down the corridor, waving goodbye, and Keith tried to decipher the feeling that those words had left in him. As he entered his neat room, he understood that he was _disappointed_. It seemed that in the course of a single day he had become completely accustomed to the gentle touch of his good friend Lance. Not even twenty-four hours had passed since the episode in the Lion, and he was already hoping that in every corner Lance would stop to take him by surprise with some of his new and warm interactions. Seriously, what else did he expect?

“Pathetic. Pathetic...” he muttered angrily, while removing his shoes and jacket in the dark, sitting on his bed. The luminous clock they used to set the time of the castle told him that there was barely an hour and a half left for Coran, the early riser, to wake them up with little elegance through the communication system, as he did the days when they had urgent matters to attend. It wasn’t worth trying to sleep, but Keith lay down on his bed to calm his pains, noticing the difference between being there, comfortably lying down, and being on the floor of a cold room, sleeping in the arms of a boy his age.

_Sleeping-in-the-arms-of-a-boy..._

He put the pillow over his head, but it couldn’t shield him from the shame he felt. He had no idea what he was doing, but the fact is that... he was doing it.

That night he had entered that deck not only to meditate, but with the vague hope that Lance would appear around, perhaps taking a night walk, if he couldn’t sleep. Maybe, with some luck, he would guess that he’d be there. He dared to entertain that innocent hope along the way, and when he opened the door, he had discovered that he was already there. Lance was there. Waiting for him. Every muscle in his body had tightened, every step he had taken toward him was a new knot in his stomach.

He didn’t know what to say. When Lance spoke to him, he remained silent and the boy interpreted that as indifference. No, he couldn’t let him go, when he was the only person he wanted to see. He held him as tight as he could, without looking desperate. But Lance could see through him. That hug was more than an answer to his request for help. It was a silent way of supporting him, of comforting him. It was the gesture of someone accustomed to giving and receiving love --someone who wasn’t like him.

He estimated that he had spent at least five hours in total in that place with Lance, and at least four had been on his shoulder. Warming under his pillow, he remembered all the new sensations he had gotten to know that crazy, unreal day, from Lance's lips and breathing on his forehead, to the hardness of his collarbone, the wide space between his shoulders, the softness of his hand on his back and shoulder... every place from the list seemed to burn when he remembered it, and so, face down in his bed, he realized that all this time fighting against that dark and mysterious instinct that seemed to wait for him every night to attack him had been lost time. No group hug, not even a hug from Shiro himself could compare to the adrenaline and at the same time soothing sensation of Lance's personalized embrace, and his body knew it. And that was what it had been asking for unceasingly. Why specifically him? Maybe because he was the only one willing to pay attention to him? Like an abandoned puppy...

“Pathetic...” he repeated under the pillow.

Pathetic, indeed. But in private, he could afford to think about it. He could afford to go over each detail and each touch, and feel the generalized ardor they produced. Embarrassed, he embraced the pillow with one hand and with the other he had to free himself unzipping his narrow trousers, which were hurting him at that moment. With a mixture of shame and agitation, he began to touch himself while unconnected images of that day passed through his mind. In the Lion, Lance's profile on the deck, his red ears, the feel of his cheek in his hair, the hand that ran down his back...

A shiver and faster pace, while the sensation in his back was repeated more frequently than the others. He curled up and saw his jacket, discarded at the bedside without care. Could it be…? He let go of the pillow to bring it close to his face and smelled it. There it was. Lance's aroma was impregnated in the back, after so many hours...

_Shit... shit..._

It was enough incentive to continue, now with renewed urgency, less clear images and more sensations with no color, but one smell… and name.

“Lance... Lance...” he muttered, gritting his teeth, trying not to make too much noise, although it didn’t matter. Fighting against himself even in private.

The climax came quickly, leaving his mind blank, his face congested and buried in the folds of his own jacket, with one last mute mention of his teammate's name on his lips. He breathed heavily, reaching out with a weak hand to his drawer, trying to find something to clean himself, clumsily taking the tissues he found there. Proceeding to the task with little ceremony and discarding the evidence in the bin below. Taking the jacket and throwing it to the other end of the room, with unjustified anger.

Burying his head again under the pillow, feeling miserable and abandoned, like all his life. It was a mistake to feed stray animals, someone had once told him. They don’t stop following you when you do.

Affection and concern were addictive, and people gave them away without care, he thought. With the best intentions, no doubt, but without counting on the terrible, terrible predisposition of that animal to receive more than it was prepared to accept.

Against his plans, he fell asleep in the light silence of sexual relief. Forgetting, at least for a while, his own loneliness, which was only accentuated by this new blind and impossible desire, nourished by a hand so kind and caring, it ended being naively cruel.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, I don't know what happened here. I wasn't even going to write this, because I want the story to advance, but then the slow burn demon possessed this humble body and there you have it. An entire chapter on a few touches, with some sad unexpected emo jerking off lol *sweats*.  
> Well, I took this chance to show the differences between Lance and Keith's views on love. Since Lance is accustomed to attention and care, I headcanon a more "emotional" approach, you know, trying to prove himself, be worthy, supportive, etc (which also makes the difference with all his other random crushes). Keith, instead, is quite touch-starved and poorly trained in emotional issues, so I headcanon a more "physical" understanding of love. But that doesn't mean they won't understand each other or that Lance is some kind of softie prince. There are no absolutes here. After all, the magic is in the balance of both aspects, AMIRITE?
> 
> Thanks a lot for all your kind comments, remember you can find me trying to solve the umbrella mystery in [Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun)
> 
> (That's a lie, I'm just scratching my head before the aesthetic Voltron posts lol).


	9. Chapter 9

The atmosphere in the room was silent and tense. All the paladins except for Allura were sitting at the table, quietly passing plates and glasses, sleepy and expectant. The absence of Coran's habitual verbiage - who was now smoothing down his mustache in silent reflection- seemed to cause an uncomfortable echo, and everything was said in a low voice. It was so uncomfortable that it was almost funny, Keith thought. If only he didn’t have the same and more reasons to be restless, while trying to dodge the pair of blue eyes that scanned him from the opposite side of the table.

He had to say something, but speeches were not his thing. He should try to make it simple, he thought when he got up, while relegating all his impulses and thoughts to a corner of his mind. Sleeping that brief hour had helped him sort his head a bit, after all, and make decisions. He would try to fix things with the team and try to depend a little less on Lance, before the warm satisfaction of having him became addictive. The other _details_... would be buried in the darkest and most abandoned place in his mind, or else they would become a nuisance that he didn’t need at all. In fact, the first thing he had done that morning was to go out to the corridor, and doubtfully put the jacket on the machine they used to wash clothes. He had almost repented, but he had to do it, or else he’d have to admit that a simple piece of cloth had more power to sabotage him than an intergalactic empire.

He had joined with that same determination the gloomy breakfast of that day, but given the state of the team (more depressed than expected), it began to waver. He knew that much of the responsibility for the current state of the troop’s morale rested on him, but he didn’t have much talent for fixing things with words. Nor fixing them at all, in fact, he meditated. He was better at smashing.

The door opened, and Allura made her entrance with a serious expression, her voluminous silver hair shining like a veil behind her, in eternal contrast to her soft dark skin. Always beautiful, always strong, even in moments like these. The only thing different from the usual was that, in her hands, she brought something that she placed on the table with delicacy, while taking a seat. They all looked curiously at the shiny object, made of thin and carefully worked metal, with points protruding at odd angles, giving it the appearance of wings. It seemed to be a helmet, or perhaps a crown. Coran was particularly affected: he observed the garment as if it carried a contagious disease.

“Good morning, everyone,” Allura greeted.

They replied "good morning" in unison, in different tones.

“You look tired. I’m so sorry for having contributed to your concerns,” she said, looking at her paladins and their discolored faces, “but I thought a lot last night, and I want to ask for your opinion on something.”

Everyone present looked at her expectantly.

“I would like to speak to Lotor once again,” the princess requested.

“Princess...” Coran, sitting next to her, was going to protest, but Allura put her hand on his.

“Don’t worry, Coran. This time I won’t go by myself. But there is something I want to confirm. I think that, depending on his answer, we could take advantage of his stay here. If it doesn’t work, I will never insist again. But I need us to be together for this to succeed...”

The team listened with curiosity and surprise to her explanation. Keith and Lance exchanged uneasy looks, but didn’t dare to protest. Would it be of any use? Keith didn’t think so, but the rest of the team seemed willing to try.

* * *

  
With firm steps, Allura presented herself before the cell, and pressed the audio button.

“Good morning, Lotor.”

The prince, who was dozing on his narrow bed, stood with some difficulty and ran his hands through his hair, approaching the glass. The parts of his armor that he had kept with him were discarded in a corner, and he was wearing only the tight dark bodysuit that he usually wore underneath. He was very tall, like all Galra, but much thinner than he looked with his armor on. It was clear that the imprisonment was taking a toll on his impeccable usual appearance, although his temper was still the same. Maybe even more sour.

“Ahh, it’s worth waking up like this. Good morning, Princess Allura, to what do I owe this pleasant morning visit?” he asked casually, settling his sleeves.

“Comfortable?” Allura asked, in a subtle teasing tone.

“As a war prisoner, very. As a prince... the famous Altean hospitality is a myth,” replied Lotor, in a very similar tone. Despite herself, Allura curled a corner of her mouth, but remembered her commitment not to be distracted. Not this time.

“I'm sorry to hear it, but the circumstances do not allow anything better,” she answered.

“I know. No matter how repulsive that green goo you are feeding me is, at least I have the privilege of eating with my head still attached to my body,” answered Lotor, running his fingers through the tangled strands of his hair.

“Good to know you understand. But since we are talking about myths, I have come to ask you something,” said Allura.

“Of course, princess, whatever you...” Lotor stopped abruptly when Allura moved her hands from her back, exposing the brilliant piece that she had taken to the table previously. The front was made of a pristine reflecting metal and had a red symbol drawn in the center, while the pointed metal that looked like black bat wings flanked the sides. It was small, like for a child's head. The prince observed the object with a strange expression.

“Do you recognize this?” Allura asked.

Lotor bended just a little, as if observing the piece for closer inspection.

“A crown. Moltrite, Galra work. Similar to my father's,” the prince enlisted, his voice somber.

“Correct. It was among my belongings, and I thought it might be of interest to you,” said Allura, running her fingers through the edges of its design.

“Not particularly. Crowns have never been of interest to me, as you should already know,” answered Lotor. The hardness of his tone betrayed his dismissal.

“Don’t you want to know how I got it? It is an interesting story,” said the princess. Lotor's smile didn’t reach his eyes, which were coldly fixed on Allura's, while saying:

“It doesn’t seem like you, Princess, to act so haughty. It even looks like you are learning from me, and they will say that I’m a bad influence.”

Certainly, Allura was not used to acting this way and maybe she was going too far, so a slight blush appeared on her cheeks, but her determination was stronger.

“I'm not acting haughty, Lotor. This crown has a story that may be important to your situation, and that's why I brought it here. After all, it's supposedly your age,” she said.

Lotor didn’t reply, he just crossed his arms. Allura continued:

“This is the gift that King Zarkon made to my father for my birth, ten thousand years ago. His wife Honerva gave it to my parents, as a gesture of goodwill. But it was quite big for an Altean baby, so we always found it funny. As if they hadn’t made it for me, you know?”

Lotor's cold stare remained unchanged, almost unblinking. His eyes were fixed on Allura's face. Intimidating and borderline creepy, but that showed the princess that she was on the right track.

“I liked this crown, during my first years. When I put it on, my father used to say that I looked like a warrior princess with it. I wore it to play until it was too small for me” Allura smiled looking at her reflection in the metal. Lotor looked to the side, a foot pounding impatiently on the ground. Uncomfortable, maybe?

“That's the only reason why I didn’t destroy it when the Galra declared war on us. Fortunate, isn’t it? Maybe now I can return it to its rightful owner,” said the princess.

Lotor abruptly turned his head towards Allura, frowning.

“I do not know what you're talking about,” he replied.

“I've thought about your story, Lotor. It’s strange, but it seemed impossible to me until I remembered this little crown. Coran was there, and told me about the attitude of the kings in Daibazaal. Zarkon was a close friend to my father, so his lack of enthusiasm was... curious. Even more curious was the attitude of Honerva, who never stopped working during the visit, even though my parents hadn’t visited her in deca-phoebs. Something serious had happened during that long time, my parents could feel it... If I make an effort to fit the pieces, stretching the possibilities a lot, your story could make some sense. If you were really born before me, and your mother was lost trying to bring you back, it is understandable that the visit was not very...”

“What’s your point, Princess Allura?” Lotor interrupted, coldly.

“Nothing more than to say that it _is_ possible. And given the evidence... I've finally decided that I believe you, Lotor,” declared Allura.

The Galra prince seemed taken by surprise by this statement, his involuntary expression of disbelief quickly replaced by a sly smile too doubtful in comparison to the usual ones.

“How nice of you, Princess. Thank you. Can I ask how does that change my situation?” Lotor asked.

“Not much, really,” said Allura, “the past does not change the current situation at all.”

“And then what did you bring that thing for? I'm not interested,” the prince growled. He looked at the crown with an expression similar to resentment.

“Nothing from the past will change your situation, but what you do in the future could. If your story is true, you have a reason to cooperate with us in our next blow to the Galra Empire. We'll hit them where it’ll hurt them most this time,” said Allura.

Lotor raised an eyebrow with interest.

“And that would be...?” he asked.

“We’ll attack their sources of quintessence and their laboratories. Without quintessence and without his druids, Zarkon will lose all his power,” replied Allura.

Lotor straightened to his full height and shook his head, exasperated.

“Impossible. Unless you intend to invade the Central Command System, which is ridiculous. The only thing you will achieve is to send your people on a suicide mission.”

“We will judge that, Lotor. I didn’t come here to ask for your opinion,” declared Allura.

The Galra prince looked coldly into the eyes of the young Altean princess, who bravely held his gaze a few seconds, until he broke into a laugh.

“Ahh, you're definitely perfect, princess. Such audacity in someone so beautiful is... a sight to behold,” said Lotor, his smile crooked in a appreciative expression.

Now the blush on Allura's cheeks was notorious, but as anyone who knew her understood, that sign was one of danger rather than shyness.

“There is nothing audacious in putting in his place a man who has absolutely nothing. Do not forget that you have no men, no weapons, no one to count on,” she angrily snapped.

“Right, right. It is a bit humiliating trying to negotiate empty-handed, but still, here you are. What is expected of me in all this?” Lotor asked.

“Information. Cooperation. And above all, loyalty,” Allura frowned and brandished the crown in front of the glass. “If you help us, I will consider returning this to you... and all that it implies.”

Lotor moved his head suspiciously, and seemed to consider his options.

“Are you offering me the rule of the Galra Empire in exchange for help to overthrow my father? Is that it?” he finally asked, smiling.

“There will be no more Empire when we defeat your father,” clarified Allura, “what I offer you is a chance of doing the right thing, of being of help to your own people. I think the offer is quite generous, considering your... current situation.”

Lotor crossed his arms again, probably calculating the benefits he could get. He smiled once more.

“I shouldn’t ask this, but I am curious. Do you really think your team will accept this new... relationship?”

“Re...? _Agreement_. This is an _agreement_ , Lotor,” stuttered Allura, furious, “and you better understand two things. First, the fact that I believe your story doesn’t mean that I trust you. At all. You haven’t done anything to earn that trust.”

“I haven’t had the opportunity, my dear Allura,” answered Lotor, “locked up in here I could not, beyond our pleasant private talks.”

“We haven’t had any private talks,” replied Allura, wrinkling her nose. Lotor raised an eyebrow, amused.

“Oh? so you already know we had unwanted visits the last time you were here?” he asked.

“The only unwanted visit around here is you,” replied acidly Allura, looking towards a corner. Lotor followed the path of her gaze, until he saw the new security device that Pidge had installed. The princess gestured to it, and turned to Lotor again.

“The second thing you must understand is that here, we all are a team. If you think that just because I come here by myself you can manipulate me, you're wrong and it will cost you. Never forget: I'm never actually alone,”

The prince watched with cold eyes as the entire team, including Coran, was heading towards Allura, standing by her side. They had been listening to the whole conversation from the control room next door, and now they were looking directly at Lotor with varying degrees of distrust in their faces.

“This is the difference between you and me, Lotor. I have people I can trust with my life. If you try anything to harm us, it will go badly for you. But if you accept my offer, I will consider giving you a larger cell,” said Allura, with the hardest voice she could achieve.

For a fleeting moment it seemed like Lotor, looking at Lance and Keith, opened his mouth to say an unpleasant comment, but decided at the last moment that it wasn’t a good idea. Instead, he said:

“I see. Well, princess, I see there’s still one paladin missing... could it be that you need my help to bring him back?”

The whole team seemed to show their teeth at the same time.

“Whatever we do with your information does not concern you. Just do as you are told,” snapped Allura.

“Well, and what would that…”

“Have you heard the names Alej and Mebarak?” Keith interrupted. The team gave him a brief disapproving look, because they had agreed not to weaken Allura, but they let it slide. It didn’t matter, since Lotor had frowned, taken by surprise once more.

“Where did you hear that name?” he asked, this time in a dry tone.

Nobody answered. Lotor's frown was deepening more and more, but resigned to following Voltron team’s rules, he replied:

“All right, fine, as you wish. But I’m going to need a stellar chart”

* * *

  
“I don’t like this” Keith whispered. Hunk and Lance were by his side, and both could hear him.

“No one, I guess. But at least we have something to begin the search,” Hunk whispered, worried.

They were on the bridge, and Lotor was there with them. They had taken him so he could show them the location of the Galra laboratories of which he had knowledge. While the three of them were standing at a certain distance from the prince, Pidge was sitting in her usual spot, recording and saving each movement of Lotor on the stellar map. Allura and Coran were asking the questions, but Keith was uneasy with Lotor's presence there, as if they had allowed an invader into their very control room.

Lotor said he didn’t know about any Alej, but he did know Mebarak. He was little known among the elite because of his withdrawn nature, but he was the chief scientist of one of the secret Galra research divisions. What he did was a mystery to most, but Lotor knew firsthand that he was the star geneticist of the Empire. He was the direct accomplice of the druid experiments on the champions and all other experimental subjects, and that is why he lived such a discrete life.

“The laboratories change locations every ten deca-phoebs more or less, usually located in satellites of distant planets, which are completely destroyed every time they leave them. They are, basically, science cruisers, if you can call what they do science,” was saying Lotor at that moment “However, there is a central laboratory, located in the only satellite of the planet Osasuna, one of the gas giants that integrate the Central Command System... We are talking about the very core of the Empire.”

The prince turned to Allura and Coran, arms folded.

 “I guess I do not need to tell you that it is one of the most dangerous places that must exist. Entering there by force is impossible,” he warned.

“Facts, not opinions, please,” Coran snapped, exasperated.

“That IS a fact, Mustache. And believe me, I'd love to see that place burn,” Lotor replied acidly, making Coran's mustache bristle.

“Is… is there where...?” Allura seemed to doubt how to finish the question, but Lotor understood.

“Yes, I was ‘born’ there. However, I cannot be of much help with it because since I was conscious my education was carried out in another system. They never let me enter again. They forbade me entry when I tried to… 'snoop' around,” the prince replied.

“Well, if even the prince can’t enter, we can expect top security and many juicy secrets,” said Pidge, arranging her glasses. “What about the cruisers? Can you tell us something about them?”

Lotor continued to deliver information and answer questions for the team. He didn’t seem interested in hiding anything, and he looked quite happy to be out of the cell.

Keith's uneasiness increased each passing minute. Allura had explained to them that morning how she wished to secure Lotor's cooperation through more than threats. She would promise him something in return to ensure his interest in the cause. No one on the team really liked the idea, but the princess wanted at all costs to see Lotor's reaction to the strange little crown she had put on the table. Somehow, she was confident that she could get an honest reaction in private if he actually recognized the Galra object, and when he heard its story. Depending on that reaction, she would make the decision as to whether to resort to him or not.

But for Keith, it was a bad idea to negotiate like this. Allura was giving Lotor pieces to play with, instead of taking advantage of his total lack of resources. He suspected that, deep down, Allura wanted to prove everyone that she was not manipulable, that she could compete with him on equal terms. But Keith feared that Lotor could turn those few pieces into a victory. What if all the information was false? What if all this was a sophisticated infiltration plan? The prince of the Empire personally infiltrating the heart of the Coalition... it was so ridiculous that it’d be a perfect plan. But it was undeniable that Zarkon was chasing him, and he had no means to communicate, how could he...?

A gentle brush on his arm distracted him. Lance, crossed arms, had inclined his body towards him to wake him from his reverie with a brief touch.

“We won’t let him get involved in our stuff. We just gotta keep him well guarded, relax,” he whispered. Keith thought that Lance was getting better and better at reading his mind. The idea of such a dangerous ability made him swallow hard... There were things there that Lance definitely mustn’t know.

“He couldn’t be bullshitting all this, right? It's impossible to lie so fast…” Hunk turned his head from side to side, divided between distrust and appreciation for the speed with which Lotor signaled Galra systems and bases, while Pidge typed furiously to keep up with him.

“Maybe he had enough time in the cell to think about all this, including that sob story he told Allura,” Keith grunted.

“We’ll check all of this before doing something man, relax. Besides... what matters is... you know,” Hunk made key gestures to represent Shiro. Lance and Keith shushed him, rolling their eyes. They had agreed not to mention Shiro in front of the Galra, as a precaution.

Just at that moment Allura was closing the session.

“You will remain in your cell, and you will be asked for assistance when necessary...”

“Can I ask for a change of clothes at least? I think I earned it,” replied Lotor, irritably.

“I... I guess so. We will provide you with some comforts... Coran?” The princess addressed her guardian who, contrary to the usual, took a moment to respond.

The Altean took a few steps to face Lotor and looked at him critically, up and down.

“I still can’t determine it. Where are you hurt, exactly? The shoulder, the elbow, or the back?”

Everyone looked at Lotor surprised. He had arrived on board by his own means, they had confiscated any element other than his clothing and even some pieces of potentially dangerous armor, and he had been handcuffed without even batting an eye, so no one thought of doing a health check, less after so many days. The Galra prince frowned.

“Have you been watching me, Mustache? What an uncomfortable surprise,” he replied, with his usual crooked smile, “it's nothing. My escape was... unconventional. Some minor injuries were to be expected.”

“Minor? I'm not sure. Now that I've seen you all this time standing, it is hard for you to move your shoulder and stay straight. What is it, a sprain? If it were a fracture you couldn’t hold for so long in that unpleasant stand of yours, you would...” He tried to strike a surprise karate chop on the prince's shoulder, who dodged it backwards, with impeccable reflexes, but betrayed by the speed of his own moves, was unable to straighten up fast enough to be convincing. Discovered, Lotor looked away from Coran's triumphant face, salty.

“It’s nothing. A bad shoulder movement, and a burn in the back... where my generals shot me,” he muttered.

“They shot you in the back?” Lance asked, indignant.

“I said it before, my generals are smart women. When they understood that my plan had failed, they had to quickly decide what to do. The only way they could be forgiven for associating with me was turning me to my father,” Lotor said, indifferently.

“And despite the shot you escaped? How?” Hunk asked.

“Nothing special. A small physical feat, and my superior ability to pilot, of course,” answered Lotor, lacking humility. “A couple of bruises is a reasonable price in exchange for escaping from my father, I dare say.”

The whole team scratched their heads or frowned. Although this added credibility points to his story, Keith still refused to let go the possibility of an infiltration plan.

“They didn’t turn you to Zarkon. Where are your generals, then?” he asked.

“I'd love to know, but since I've been here I'm not very informed about the Empire news, as you may guess...” Lotor replied.

“Where would they go if they can’t go back to the Empire? You have to know,” Keith interrupted.

“I know many things that might interest _you_ , Blade,” said Lotor, his tone poisonous, “but this one in particular also interests me... and I don’t know. I trust that in fact you can help me find out.”

Keith felt his hair stand on end as the team directed their confused glances at each other. Could he be referring to his mother with that first comment? He was going to keep talking, but a hand came to rest on his shoulder when Lance stepped forward and distracted everyone's attention.

“What are you gonna do with him, Coran, will you fix his shoulder? You could use those martial arts moves we were practicing the other day...”

“I'd rather not,” said Lotor, glancing at Coran's interested expression.

“Princess, although I have no interest in this individual’s health, it seems to me that letting him continue in this state would be reprehensible. We should use the capsules to accelerate recovery...”

“I appreciate the concern, Mustache, but I would prefer not to spend my captivity time unconscious,” said Lotor, curtly.

“Nobody is going to do anything to you. We have standards in this castle, even if you don’t know what that means,” replied Coran, inflating his chest.

“Not that many if it took you a week to discover the state of your prisoner,” retorted Lotor, showing his fangs in response.

Before Coran exploded, Allura put an end to the situation, and asked Hunk to help supervise Lotor's procedure, clarifying that the prince had no opinion on the matter. He had no choice but to resign himself, but Keith was sure that he gave him one last malicious look before leaving the room, flanked by Hunk and Coran.

 _'Remember the deal,'_ he seemed to say.

In that brief moment of disorder, Lance's hand just descended from his shoulder, and both boys glanced at each other, an interval of mutual understanding between the chaos. Keith would have to decide what to do if things kept going like this and Lotor was let out of the cell. But, even more pressing was the matter that the place where Lance's hand had been was currently burning, as if complaining for the absence of it.

* * *

  
They had confirmed that the name thrown by Shiro in his message was real, and that it had to do with a genetics laboratory. This only added more credibility to the initially impossible idea that he was right about his suspicions, to everyone’s surprise. With Lotor’s info they could put all their allies to work in the new coup against the Galra, without the need to clarify that they needed to rescue one of their own paladins. They would have to think of a way to check the data, check if Shiro was there, draw a plan and then perform the rescue. Attack? Infiltration? Everything would depend on what they could find out, which would take at least several days, to Keith's frustration. The uncertainty and disbelief never ended.

They had a lot to do after the events of that morning. They had put Lotor in a healing capsule, they had a brief meeting to give their opinions about what had happened, and they had decided to work on the commitments they made with the Coalition, while they would gradually inform the allies the intention of carrying out the plan and request information, in particular to the Marmorians. They would also have to find a way to communicate with "Shiro", which meant looking for Slav. They were sure he was with him: they had left the paranoid scientist on a safe planet before the attack on Naxzela and now they hadn’t been able to communicate with him anymore. It was really worrying: if Shiro had turned to Slav for help it could only be because he was genuinely desperate.

But all this would have to wait, which was what Keith hated the most. Waiting. He had put on the red paladin uniform once more, and felt a little strange, after months using the Blade's light uniform. Voltron would make its first appearance for the Coalition since the battle for Naxzela that afternoon. From now on they would have many places to visit, so it’d be impossible to devote one hundred percent to the search for Shiro, but they didn’t have a choice. As he himself told Pidge when she went to find Matt, rescuing an individual was not a priority. It was selfish, in fact. Something very "Blade" to say, he thought embarrassed, while watching the capsule that contained the Galra prince of purple skin and silver hair, who slept with a placid expression, recovering against his will.

He had sneaked away to observe him and although Coran had recommended that nobody approached him, Keith knew that all of them had done the same during the morning. They were curious about this strange individual, whose real agenda remained a mystery. Lotor would have to stay there for at least twelve hours, according to Hunk, so on the way to the Black Lion's hangar he made a detour to look at him without having him gaze back with his unpleasant twisted smile.

He rested in the liquid like a mythical creature, his long silver mane floating light and soft, surrounding his features with its inexplicable shine. Much like Allura's hair, which seemed to be an Altean trait. Could he really be Honerva's son? Could he have the same skills Allura had to shapeshift? Lotor shared very few traits with the Galra, although the most notorious were his purple skin and his elevated height. He looked at his own hands. The lack of Galra traits in himself was still a mystery to him. Shouldn’t he look more like Lotor, maybe? The only strange thing about him was the color of his eyes, which wasn’t even visible to the naked eye. His dark eyes were, up close, a shade of violet. How had his mother been? Kolivan had no images of her. For security, they didn’t have images of their agents: they had developed the luxite blades method to avoid it. Each member left behind a part of their identity after the trials, anyway. While being a Blade, it didn’t matter who you were and where you came from...

“May I interrupt?” said Lance's voice from the entrance, making Keith wince. Immediately, the already familiar lack of coordination of his pulse began, but he made a great effort not to pay attention, despite the insistent pounding in his ears.

“Following me again?” he asked back, a little embarrassed that he was found in that place.

“Not this time, buddy” Lance answered, approaching. “I admit that I came to take a quick look at the dude before leaving. When we return he’ll probably be awake and pestering everyone again.”

“Yeah, I thought the same,” Keith acknowledged. He paused, and asked hesitantly “Do you… do you really think... that he really is half Altean?”

Lance looked at him critically.

“We only have Coran and Allura for reference. Clearly, he doesn’t resemble Coran at all. But Allura... I dunno, maybe his mom was actually family? The hair...” Lance watched him from various angles.

“He doesn’t look like Zarkon either,” Keith observed.

“Maybe in ten thousand more years he will, we don’t know what Zarkon was like before he looked like a turtle on steroids,” Lance replied.

Keith laughed heartily despite his nerves, and Lance smiled back at him. He looked at him with an expression of satisfaction.

“You put on the paladin uniform again, huh. How is it?” he asked.

“Fine. A little stiff, maybe, but it's a matter of habit,” Keith said, moving his elbow and feeling the characteristic sound of the joints. An almost nostalgic sound, he thought.

“You can always change it, I guess... should I wear the red armor now?” Lance said, thoughtfully.

“No... that would mean that I have to wear the black armor,” Keith replied, with some bitterness. The black uniform was and always would be Shiro's.

Lance watched him for a few seconds, understanding. But, as if to himself, Keith heard him whisper:

“Better that way. Red is definitely your color...”

Keith managed to open his mouth to ask what he had meant, when Lance hurried to ask:

“Did I look just as... dead when I was in this tube? No one ever told me...”

His ears were a little red, Keith noticed, but since he had blushed himself, he simply crossed his arms. Right, Lance had been in one of those capsules. His face looked sore even when he was recovering, but maybe it was because the damage had been much worse. Keith felt his stomach tighten. Could he stand to see Lance like that now? It had already been bad at the time, his painful expression after being in such pain, now it would be... horrible.

“Yeah, you looked the same,” he replied, trying to dispel the idea.

“The same? Of course not, I'm way more handsome!” he said, massaging his arm with the opposite hand, and making movements with the shoulder, absentmindedly.

Keith was about to answer "Definitely", but stopped just in time, while Lance looked at him expectantly. Was he waiting for an answer? Of course he was better. Lance in his blue paladin armor was a vision he had not appreciated enough before. A waste, he thought, looking at his companion out of the corner of his eye, trying not to be so obvious, admiring how well the suit fitted his assets. However, distracted by the movements of his arm, Keith asked:

“You sore?”

“Ah ... a bit, but it’ll be alright soon. Don’t worry, huh. It has nothing to do... err...” Lance seemed to struggle finding the right way to explain himself as he hurriedly lowered his arm, but Keith had just understood. It was the arm that held him in his sleep that night.

“Oh. I... I'm sorry,” Keith stuttered.

“No, no, no! It's nothing, that's why I said not to worry, seriously,” Lance said.

“I didn’t think... really, it never occurred to me...” Keith insisted.

 “Hey, easy. It’s fine,” said Lance. He paused, running his hand through his hair, and with a gentle expression added:

“It was worth it.”

It was too much. Keith felt the painful sting of Lance's cruel kindness again. If he knew what those words were causing on him, he would never say them. But at the same time, he did it because it was his nature, what guilt could he have when Keith twisted his words for his own sake? To fuel his stupid fantasies?

It was a fortune that Pidge appeared at the door and he didn’t have to say anything, because he was completely lost.

“What are you two dorks doing, admiring Lotor? Turn on the comms, they’ve been calling for us!” she scolded them.

“Oh ... right,” Keith lit the communicator on his helmet, which he held under one arm.

“No one is admiring him, but let’s settle this issue, who looked more handsome in the healing capsule? He or I?” Lance asked heatedly.

Pidge looked up at him, dazed.

“Are you asking for real? Who looks better sunk in a tube of water, recovering from serious injuries?”

“Yes,” insisted Lance.

“None?” Pidge shrugged.

“Hey, seriously Pidgey? Not even for loyalty? What kind of friend are you?” Lance asked, pissed.

“It's the truth. Why don’t you ask Keith for his opinion?” Pidge alleged. Keith managed to see that her eyes once again had the malicious look he had detected other times. Could it be that she... suspected?

Lance seemed hesitant to insist, so Keith simply put on his helmet to cover his face and said:

“Enough waste of time. They called us, move it.”

“Hey, I just came looking for you!” claimed Pidge, following Keith, who had headed for the exit at a rapid pace.

If he had looked back he’d have noticed how Pidge’s eyebrows wiggled towards Lance, and how he blushed to his ears. He also put on his helmet, threatening his friend with his fist. As they moved through the corridors, the red paladin cleared his throat and said:

“Well, at least there's one thing we know about Lotor, regardless of whether he's an Altean or a Galra.”

“What’s that?” Keith asked.

“That he’s a colossal jerk, and we don’t want him near our Allura,” Lance replied.

The three paladins looked at each other for a moment, and nodded briskly. At least they could always agree on that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long ago, before I started writing this fic, I read in tumblr a theory about the crown that was given to Allura as a baby. I can't find the post, but I'll link it if it appears, since it inspired this chapter in particular. I was waiting since long ago to write it and expected it to be a bit more exciting, lol. It will appear again anyway, everything matters in this mess of a story! This is the last chapter where I'm reuniting the ingredients, we'll start cooking on the next one! 
> 
> Btw, Osasuna is a spanish football team, Mebarak is Shakira's surname and moltrite comes from Moltres, the pokemon. What a clever fella I am. Don't you ever let me name your child, I can't even properly name fictional characters/things.
> 
> You can follow my [secondary Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun) where I post VLD thingies. Thanks so much for reading, I appreciate so much the feeback and kudos <3 never knew how great (and scary!) it was to show people what you write haha. Noob!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (late) Valentine's day! I've been in a fluff mood, which is rare in me... so here. A bit late, sorry. Btw I'm working in something for the upcoming Klanceweek starting tomorrow! Details in end notes, for now, I hope you enjoy!

Voltron's first flight with Keith leading was, to everyone's relief, a success. Despite the fear that the synergy of the team could’ve been affected by the problems they had lately, as soon as they departed and tried to join the lions in straight flight, the mystical connection was reactivated and they could see clearly, for a moment, each other’s intentions in their minds, which in fact was a great boost for their morale and gave them confidence after the sudden loss of Shiro. The most surprising thing for all was to feel the difference in Keith's will, whose experiences of these months (with the Blade, the closeness to death, the disappearance of Shiro) seemed to have changed his vision of duty. Everyone could feel that, for the first time, instead of taking leadership as a burden that he’d rather throw out the window, he was more concerned about putting real effort into making things go as well as possible. Nobody told him, but it was a great satisfaction for his teammates to appreciate this change. In turn, Keith didn’t tell anyone how much of it was due to Lance. Voltron again sailed the skies, imposing, and could appear before a delirious crowd composed by leaders of the planets, colonies and people freed in their last attack, before which Allura gave the speech of rigor quite successfully. They didn’t even have to give many excuses for Shiro's absence: having Voltron around was enough to make them feel satisfied and not ask too many questions.

But even though things were going well, Keith couldn’t feel relief. Not only because of his uninterrupted concern about Shiro's situation, but because Lotor's presence in the Castleship was becoming a new source of stress over the days.

Once the Galra prince had recovered from his wounds, he’d begun to demand things, given his new status as an ‘ally’. Keith blamed Allura for allowing him to do this, but the princess considered it fair to make certain concessions in exchange for having him on her side (and quiet). He was allowed to leave the cell, was granted a room with more privacy and guarded access to certain common areas, such as the lounge and the training deck. Beyond that, he had to stay away from the rest of the rooms and halls of the Castle, the bridge and, most importantly, the lions. This made the whole team uncomfortable, who feared both the possibility of meeting him in the corridors as much as a possible escape. Pidge, Hunk, and Coran had had to raise their security, much to everyone's discomfort, but even so Keith was sure that Lotor could escape whenever he wanted and even steal back his ship. However, the prince seemed to have no interest in that and cooperated willingly with Allura. The first week since Voltron's first flight, he had been summoned once again to the bridge, and there he appeared, in his usual suit. He rejected each change of clothes that Coran had given him, except for a new bodysuit that he wore under his armor, replacing the previous one.

They were discussing possible breaches to access high-security buildings in the Central Command System, something that Lotor strongly opposed.

“I think, Princess, this hurry is going to play against you. Having released a third of the Empire is not enough to invade the other two. You have not even established enough security protocols for the part under your control,” said the prince.

“They are not under our control,” clarified Allura, “those systems were liberated and we are working to protect their limits. We are not going to interfere in their inner governments.”

“Oh, but you should. Keep in mind that five thousand years of domination or so may have reduced the autonomy of those systems. And all wars are expensive... if you expect them to aid you, you'll have to give them a reason for it,” replied Lotor.

“And their freedom is not enough as a reason for you, of course,” said Coran.

“No,” answered Lotor, lapidary, with his hands behind his back and a contemptuous look, “for the simple reason that it is something they longed for a long time and have already achieved. Now they need new goals. If you want them to be loyal, you must give them a reason to work for you. Prosperity, wealth ... something they wouldn’t achieve without you. Or _against_ you.”

The prince turned to Allura with solemnity and added:

“You would be surprised by how malleable the will of the people is. Right now, they adore you and your paladins as their saviors, but I assure you that they will be quick to blame you if anything goes wrong. _‘You freed us, now what?’ ‘Aren’t you going to help us anymore?’_ That has happened many times through history. You should not repeat those mistakes, Princess.”

Allura looked at him with her mouth ajar, but she pressed her lips together, without answering anything, probably thinking he was right. Lotor asked with a polite gesture for permission to use the map and turning it with precise movements, as an expert, he made the territory occupied by the Galra stand out in violet light.

“For deca-phoebs I’ve dedicated myself to studying the formula of my father's success. It is not easy to keep so many galaxies at bay for so many millennia. How is it that such a ruthless leader can stay in power for so long? Certainly, fear and power can help. But history has also taught us that the more you clench your fist, the faster power drains between your fingers. Fear creates resistance, and resistance has generated groups such as the Blade of Marmora, among others. And yet, the Empire remains, do you know why?” Lotor asked.

All the paladins, who were present, were silent. Coran touched his mustache, looking at the ground. Nobody answered.

“Order,” Lotor replied to himself, “the Empire rests on a strict hierarchy, a system that has the emperor as the head of a chain of officers and posts. The elite can do virtually whatever they want and that is why they are willing to do anything to maintain the emperor's favor. And each officer fulfills a role, adorned with everything the Empire provides to produce fear and gain respect. When someone is unhappy with something, they can turn to the assigned place that the Empire has for that. When that discontent has no solution, it is quickly silenced. A combination of fear and efficiency that keeps people quiet. Not happy, nor satisfied. Only quiet. That is the system that emperor Zarkon, who stopped being a beloved leader long ago, has maintained until now.”

“But we do not seek to build an Empire,” replied Allura, annoyed. “We want to return their freedom to people so that they can choose their destiny. All these planets and these cultures had their own lives before they were dominated by the Galra, who have stripped them of everything.”

“I know your ambition is not that, Princess. But the universe is a chaos that always tends to order. I simply believe that you must see beyond your mission, for the moment will come when you will find yourself at a crossroads between doing something or repeating the mistakes of others before you. Remember... that's how the Ouroboros theory works,” said Lotor, with a kind smile. Coran gave him a suspicious look when he mentioned that theory.

“We didn’t call you for this, anyway,” Lance intervened, bored with Lotor’s speech, “for now, what we want is to crush your father, not write his biography.”

Lotor looked at him scornfully.

“Which is stupid. The hatred for my father has not stopped me from seeing that the key to his fall has to be in his own mistakes. And for that you have to study him first... although maybe humans have no notion of it. For what I understand they are a species with little history and poor mental development... in that case, I apologize if this surpasses your capacities,” said the prince, with all the malice he could impress on his voice.

Lance stood up from his chair with a single leap, but Hunk, who was by his side, sat him down again with only one arm.

“Not worth it, bro,” he said, shaking his head.

“Too bad we've evolved enough to understand how humiliating it must be to be shot in the back by your own people and be left to drift in space,” said Pidge sarcastically, putting her arms behind her head with a grin. Lotor raised an eyebrow, while Coran celebrated the comment with a laugh.

“Well done, that's our number Five!” he exclaimed, wiping a tear of laughter.

Keith ran his fingers through his eyelids, stressed. They needed information about the laboratories where Shiro could be, not stupid theories about governments.

“We are deviating from the subject. Let's finish this soon, okay?” he said, sharply.

“That's what I tried!” Lance protested on the other end. If he hadn’t been so tired of putting up with Lotor's mug, Keith would probably have smiled at the childlike expression of Lance, who crossed his legs in his chair like an angry kid.

“Well, Princess, to summarize, I believe you're rushing things too much. I think you are forgetting that there are other ways to win wars and, besides, you forget that the Empire has people who do not necessarily love their leader or know what happens behind closed doors,” concluded Lotor.

Allura seemed thoughtful, and Keith saw in that expression the birth of an idea.

“How much do people know about your father's druids?” she asked.

“Almost nothing,” answered Lotor, crossing his arms, “they rarely appear in public. They are like living legends, for people who know about them their only function is to keep my father alive.”

“I see...” Allura played with one of her curls, distracted, as if she thought of something else. Lotor stared at her, as if waiting, but the princess woke up from her self-absorption and simply said:

“We'll discuss it another time. Now, let's talk about security in Haggar's cruise. We saw it in Naxzela and it disappeared too quickly. What do you know about it?”

Lotor began to give information and Keith concentrated with all his might to learn every detail, hoping that they could implement some plan soon. The lack of real action was starting to corrode his nerves.

* * *

   
And so, three weeks since Voltron's first flight went by. Every day passed between communications with the allies, reports, Galra sightings that most of the time weren’t correct, diplomatic visits and, in short, little real activity, only one small Galra outpost dismantled by the paladins within the already regained territory, which made it too easy. The Empire remained in unsettling silence, but there was no doubt that they were preparing for something big. Trying not to fall into paranoia, the Coalition prepared itself as well as possible for anything, but this complicated the chances of obtaining information about Shiro. Keith knew that at least Matt and his fellow Blades were working on it, but the wait was driving him mad. The lack of action gave him too much time to think, and it was what he least needed at that moment.

Worst of all, his head was not only occupied by Shiro's situation. His efforts to keep his feelings for Lance at bay were hampered by leisure, when Keith had nothing better to do than admire the new attractive he found in his teammate. Now that they were officially ‘friends’, Lance sought to spend more time in his company than before: after dinner, when they had turns at the bridge, or, occasionally, in a training session. This was particularly torturous for poor Keith, who had to be constantly struggling with his eyes and his head for such simple things as watching Lance stretch, make a new move in the training arena and even watch him talk while he ate. Everything was _horribly_ enticing about him, from the curve of his neck, to the narrowness of his waist that could be glimpsed between the folds of his clothes, his long legs, the strand of unruly hair he wore every morning and even the way he made his knuckles crack unconsciously when he was working. Keith felt consumed by a fever that wouldn’t kill him, but wouldn’t leave him either, and his only solution had been to turn to physical exertion: he spent most of his free time training. The rest of the team interpreted it as his coping mechanism against the absence of Shiro and the stress of the leadership, so they left him alone most of the time without too many questions, to his relief.

Until that day he had the bad luck to go down too early to the kitchen and Pidge was the only one there, disheveled and pale like almost every morning, since she was not an early riser. Instinctively, Keith paused at the door, but since the girl had already seen him, he had no choice but to enter. It was absurd to hide from the youngest member of the team, but for some reason, since weeks ago Keith was developing an unconscious fear of being alone with her. It hadn’t gone unnoticed for the rest of the team that Lance and Keith were getting along remarkably well, but none of them watched them like Pidge...

‘How ridiculous’ he thought, stepping in louder than necessary, while the girl greeted him affably.

“Oh, hey Keith. How you doing?”

“Hey Pidge... you’re up early,” Keith answered, choosing what to eat from the cupboard they used as a pantry when they had more things to eat than green goo.

“Actually, I never went to sleep. We were playing with Lance on his console until late and then I thought it was a waste to sleep having so much to do, so I stayed up... at least today we don’t have to fly,” Pidge replied, giving a big yawn and rubbing her eyes.

“You shouldn’t do that. You never know when we’ll have an emergency,” Keith replied, still searching for something sweet.

“Yeah, yeah,” the girl replied, yawning again and closing her eyes. They were silent for a few seconds. Keith hesitated a moment, but finally dared to ask:

“So... Lance is going to be late?”

Before Pidge answered anything, he hastened to mutter:

“It's just that he promised to replace Coran on the bridge today...”

Pidge opened only one eye and followed him for a few seconds with her glance as he tossed cookies into a bowl. With a crooked smile, she said innocently:

“You should join us one day. Every time we get nice food somewhere we take it to Lance's room and we organize tournaments, along with Hunk. Wouldn’t you like to go to Lance's room? I mean, just to play...”

Keith hit the bowl too hard against the table. He had blushed, but since he was turning his back on Pidge, he stayed still so she wouldn’t find out. He didn’t need to see her to know that she must be making the same malicious expression with which she had looked at him for weeks. Maybe it’d be a good time to ask why, but... did he want to know the answer?

With a rasp, he said:

“No... I don’t know how to play with those things. I never had one of those.”

“Seriously? No matter, it's so easy to learn. I assure you that the most difficult thing is to enter Lance's room and cross the garbage to get to the console... although if you were to go, Lance would probably put some effort to appear a little more decent.”

Keith turned scandalized, unable to hide his expression.

“Hm, it’d be good... I assure you that the place is a dumpster, and you have seen my room,” Pidge added, taking the spoon to her mouth, with the same fake innocence as always.

“Pidge, what do you want?” Keith asked, half angry, half confused. Enough, he had to know.

“Me? Why?” she asked. As Keith just crossed his arms, frowning, she gave an exasperated sigh.

“Nothing, really. I’m simply stressed by misunderstandings. You know, like in movies? I hate that annoying half where nobody says anything and everyone does stupid things because they don’t understand each other... ugh, how I hate it,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” now Keith had approached, his heart beating fast. Was it possible that Pidge could help him with... his situation? Could she have privileged information, perhaps?

Pidge was surprised by his face, which must have looked stupidly hopeful, and began to laugh.

“Hey, don’t ask me, I just say what I see. And what I see... Is stressing me,” she admitted.

“What is stressing you? Good morning guys,” Hunk yawned, as he shuffled through the door.

“Love issues, Hunk. I’ve never given a single good piece of advice in my life,” Pidge replied, and Keith felt the blood on his cheeks drop to his feet. Hunk blinked in confusion, looking from one to the other.

“Ha, you mean in your short life, aren’t you a little too young to be giving love advice? And who needs it, anyway?” he asked. Pidge just shrugged.

Hunk looked around the room as if vaguely searching for someone else, but only saw Keith, whom he looked absently up and down. Then he opened his eyes wide.

 “Wait… you?” he asked, almost with fear.

“Yes,” said Pidge.

“NO!” Keith shouted at the same time, frozen.

“What? Keith found love in space? What's going on? Why would he ask YOU anyway? Wha...?” Hunk asked, while Keith ran away from the kitchen. From the hallway he could hear Pidge yelling at his friend, “Hunk! I'm supposed to be the nerd and you the perceptive one!”

She knew. Pidge knew it. Like, it was obvious, from how she looked at him, but that she told him so casually... besides, now Hunk knew too. This meant that, at any moment, the news would reach Lance's ears.

He entered the first door he recognized and found himself in the training deck. He dropped to the floor with his back to the wall. He looked at his hands: he brought the bowl with cookies he had picked, but looking at it made him feel stupid, so he threw it with all his strength to the other side of the room.

His communicator rang in his pocket. Reluctantly, he put it on his ear and answered.

“Here Keith. What happened?”

“Hey, Keith? It's me, Hunk. No, no, don’t cut, please listen,” begged Hunk, guessing that Keith was taking his hand directly to his ear to cut.

“What?” Keith snapped.

“Pidge says she's very sorry.”

A _"No, I’m not!"_ was clearly heard in the background, and Keith rolled his eyes as Hunk shushed Pidge.

“Ok, maybe she isn’t really sorry, but buddy, you don’t have to worry. I mean, we have our faults, Pidge is kinda crude... ouch” Keith deduced that she had kicked him somewhere, “and I can be slow and maybe a _tiny little bit_ insensitive, I understand, I'm sorry. But neither of us is a snitch, ok? If you don’t wanna talk, we won’t push you and I formally swear I’m not saying anything to... err, no one.”

Keith sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“There's nothing to say, it doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Eh... yeah, of course, I understand. But... if there was something ... you know, you want to discuss... anything at all… you can always count on us. No pressure,” Hunk offered.

Before Keith could reply, he heard in the background how Pidge said _"Things only work out if they are discussed, tell him that too!"_

“He can hear you, ALL THE CASTLE can hear you, can’t you lower your voice?” Hunk growled, exasperated.

Keith thought that, certainly, the experience since his return had taught him that hiding secrets and avoiding necessary discussions always ended badly, but this was different. This was... a personal secret. One that only he knew, and the idea that others would talk about it gave him hives. But Pidge and Hunk were Lance's inseparable friends. Enviously inseparable, he thought, since he with his loner label had never enjoyed such a friendship. They had to be asking for concern, maybe they were afraid he would mess with Lance. Or that he would keep him all to himself, which was what he secretly wanted... Wait. No. He hadn’t even considered what he wanted. He just lived day by day burning inside, but he hadn’t thought of anything beyond that. Keep him to himself? What the hell was that?

Ashamed, he simply said:

“It's okay. Thanks, but you have nothing to worry about... nothing’s happening. Absolutely nothing.”

“Hey, to be honest, I wouldn’t be so...” Hunk managed to say, but he heard Pidge say _"turn that off, someone is coming"_ , and the communication was cut off.

Keith took off his comm and gaped at it. "I wouldn’t be so...?"

Maybe he should’ve asked. Maybe he shouldn’t have fled. Maybe he should’ve taken the chance, both to open up to others and to obtain some information, some signal of what he should do. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown the bowl full of cookies to the other end of the room, as the hungry roar of his stomach told him. He hit the wall with the back of his head, frustrated. Why couldn’t he learn to think with a cool head yet?

He glanced around the empty room, and decided it was a good time to destroy the gladiator. He didn’t even have armor, but it didn’t matter. The thing was to do some exercise. He took off his jacket, searched for his inseparable Marmorian blade inside its pocket, and threw the garment to the ground. He went to the center of the room to give the instructions to the simulator, when the door opened and the only person in the universe who could further worsen his mood came in: Lotor.

They both looked at each other for a few seconds until the prince, going from a neutral expression to his classic crooked smile, entered the room at a calm pace.

“Good morning, Blade,” he greeted. He had his armor on, but no weapon. They had all been confiscated and still not returned.

“It's Keith. Not ‘Blade’” Keith replied, furious. He knew that this time Lotor had nothing to do with his problems, but he couldn’t help but feel hatred bubbling inside him every time he was near him, even worse at such a bad time.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I understood that the Blades surrender their names when they become part of their… cult,” replied Lotor, also approaching the center calmly.

“It's not a cult, and they don’t’ surrender their names. Now stop meddling everywhere,” Keith snapped, fed up.

“I'm just trying to talk. It will be uncomfortable to train in silence while we are both here, don’t you think?” said Lotor, standing next to Keith. He felt an extra current of hate running through him.

“I'm not going to train with you. I got here first, get out,” Keith growled.

“Isn’t it more rewarding to train with someone else, instead of a simulator? We Galra are taller than these sad dolls,” replied Lotor. It sounded like he was having fun.

“At least they don’t talk. Get out,” Keith repeated as, with a wave of his hand, he made his sword adopt its full form.

“Oh, but I have interesting things to say. I wonder why you still have not asked me anything... Did you forget our little deal?” Lotor asked.

Keith could hear Lance's voice saying in his mind, _"Don’t let the jerk provoke you"_ and decided to listen to it.

“I don’t have any deal with you. Leave me alone,” he replied.

Lotor laughed heartily.

“Well that’s some impressive pride. Let's do something more interesting, then... a game.”

The prince took a couple of steps and stood in front of Keith, who reluctantly looked up to find the tall Galra's malicious eyes.

“For every blow you can deal on me with your sword, I will tell you something of what I know about your mother. How about it?”

Keith felt himself turn pale. It was true then, this bastard knew about his mother. How could he guess, if it wasn’t true? Not even the rest of the team knew, except for Lance, who found out later. In his brain the possibilities began to run over, while the seconds passed and Lotor's smile was even more pronounced.

“Should I interpret this as a yes?” the prince asked, putting himself in a combat stance.

What was Lotor looking for with this charade? Keith's head was chaotic and his hands itched to strike him. He would do it for free, in fact. But, again, the voice similar to Lance's called him to order. _"Don’t let him provoke you..."_

“No. I'm not going to fight with an unarmed guy,” Keith turned his back and walked away a few steps.

“I have just armor and you just have a weapon. I'd say we are in the same condition, unless you are afraid to miss such a big target,” Lotor sneered.

_"Don’t let him provoke you..."_

“Or maybe you aren’t that skilled? Well, if that's the case, you did not get it from her. She has good aim, at least...”

In two agile movements Keith turned and leaped towards Lotor, the sword at an angle meant to hit him in the neck. The prince, with his superior flexibility, threw all his body back and while the sword passed in front of his nose, his right arm extended and he gave a loud blow to Keith in the ribs. The boy took a step back, aching.

“I never said I would not defend myself,” clarified Lotor, smiling sharply, “you'll have to use more than dirty tricks if you want to get something else.”

Keith's head was blank. His only thought was to cut off Lotor, erase that disgusting expression from his face. To take from his hands the right to play with something that was important to him.

One, two, three thrusts dodged by the prince. He moved with an agility that was impossible to guess in such a large body and with armor that looked so heavy, although it was probably made to fit his movements. Had he been less blind with rage, he’d have been able to appreciate Lotor's complex and effortless footwork. Those were pro swordsman movements, and Keith realized that his opponent, armed, could be lethal. But that didn’t matter now, he’d hit him until he was satisfied.

He tried to make a foot sweep, to take advantage of the difference in height, but Lotor simply did a forward pirouette effortlessly and was out of Keith's reach, although he was not in a position to counterattack either. He was lighter than any of the Galra Keith had faced.

“You are quick, I give you that,” said the prince.

For all answer, Keith ran to him and to disarm his defense he rammed him with a shoulder and his whole weight. The prince took a step backwards from the force of the push and Keith took advantage by lowering his arms to direct the sword straight to his stomach, but the prince simply took a quick step to the side and with a precise blow on the wrist made him drop the sword. With the other hand, he hit him so hard on the chin that he was knocked back and breathless for a few seconds. Cursing, Keith straightened again. The sword returned to his hand while he thought he was missing the armor’s feet booster at that time. He was sure that by air he’d have better chances. His chin throbbed painfully, probably turning purple. He felt the metallic taste of blood: he had cut his lip inside. Instead, Lotor's breathing was barely altered.

“I guess this means you do not care that much about what I have to say. A pity,” said Lotor, moving his right wrist. Keith watched him with hatred, and charged again.

This time he ran towards his opponent as if he were going to jump, but instead, he threw himself to the ground again. Barely reacting, Lotor prepared to avoid a second sweep, but instead, Keith passed by him, took a quick turn and with the leg he had extended hit the back of Lotor's knees, causing him to lose his balance enough time to change the sword automatically from the right to his left hand and hurt him in the hip. The blade scraped the armor when the prince made a turn in the air to avoid the direct hit, taking two hesitant steps backwards.

Both breathed agitated, and Lotor laughed heartily.

“Good. Where do you want to...?” The prince had to dodge another well-directed attack, now directly to his left side. The sword reached to touch the armor once more, but this time Lotor took the opportunity to get behind Keith in one solid movement and make him stumble. Before Keith could stand, Lotor dug his elbow into the back of his neck and crushed him to the ground, while the boy writhed with all his might. As a precaution, the Galra put a knee on Keith's back.

“Enough,” he said, brushing hair off his face with his free hand. He waited for Keith to stop fighting, and when Keith halted, he got up and swept his armor with his hands. He looked at the two new scratches that the blade left on its bright surface, while the paladin stood up and looked at him with renewed hatred.

“Two hits, two questions, as I promised,” said Lotor.

“What the fuck do you want? What are you playing?” Keith barked.

“Do you really want those to be your two questions?” Lotor asked raising an eyebrow. He seemed about to laugh at the boy's exasperated expression.

“Why do you insist on meddling in this? You don’t do anything unless they offer you something in return, what do you want from me?” Keith spit some blood on the floor. He knew Allura would kill him if she found out.

“It just happens to be that we have a common interest,” said Lotor, sweeping his mane. “You want to find someone, I want to find her too.”

“Why are you interested in my mother? What did she do to you?” Keith asked, this time with a hint of despair in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by his interlocutor, whose grimace similar to a smile turned into an expression of resentment.

“She betrayed me. She wasn’t the only one, but she was the one that I least expected to. I owe her this...”

Lotor turned, holding his hair, and showed the back of his armor, blackened in the center. Keith was slow to make the connection, because his brain was filled with a buzz that didn’t let him think. As if it didn’t want him to put the ideas together, because the result wasn’t good... Lotor was talking, but Keith couldn’t hear at all.

_One of his generals had shot him in the back._

_His mother had shot him in the back._

_His mother was one of Lotor’s generals._

How was that possible? Not even in his craziest nightmares... As if raising the volume to a radio, he could hear the prince's voice again.

“If you can figure out what she's doing now, you'll do us both a favor... Keith.”

The boy looked at Lotor with such a disoriented expression that the prince himself seemed to decide to contain, for once, his poisonous tongue with an expression that, in someone less heartless, could have been interpreted as pity.

* * *

  
He went out into the hall with his jacket in his hand and his first thought was that he should do something about the bruise on his chin, which hurt almost as much as his ribs, so he would have to go to the medical bay. It had been a long time since he last suffered injuries without his armor on. He took a few steps until he realized he was going in the opposite direction, so he paused, confused. He wondered if Hunk or Pidge would see him through the new security system they had strategically installed in certain corridors. He hoped not, because he didn’t need questions. He didn’t want to answer anything, or think, or see anyone. Anyone except for...

He followed the path that his feet had unconsciously indicated and headed to the rooms. He passed by his own door and ignored it. He turned the corner, and walked to the center door. He must be there. It was still early and he was going to get up late that day, he probably hadn’t go to the bridge yet...

He stood there in doubt for a solid minute wondering if he should touch the panel that all the doors had on the outside, but a fleeting account of the strange events of that crazy morning and the latent pain in his chin seemed to infuse him with courage. If only he hadn’t got up so early that day... His finger touched the button.

He calculated that he’d have about ten more seconds if he wanted to escape, but his feet were stuck to the ground. The door opened and a disheveled head peeked out, while Lance's clear voice said:

“I already told you on the comm it's later, why...”

The boy, in his pajamas, was frozen in the middle of the phrase when he saw Keith's face. He deduced from his expression that he must’ve been looking worse than he had predicted. Lance took his wrist, brought him in, lit the room, closed the door and looked closely at Keith's wound.

“What happened?!” he asked, while removing the hair from Keith’s face with his hands, to see if he had more bruises.

“It was...” Keith tried to speak, but didn’t know where to start. How much could he tell? What would Lance say? He had an irrational fear of his reaction, while his blue eyes scanned him as if trying to extract the answer directly from his own. Keith exhaled.

“Lotor,” he confessed. He put his thumb to his mouth to see if he still had blood, and found out he did. “In the training deck... he appeared and...”

Keith stopped because when he lifted his gaze from his finger he found out that Lance was livid, with tight lips and a furious expression he never saw before. Not seriously, at least.

“I’ll kill him. _I’ll kill him_ , where is he?!” Lance gave a single hit to the door’s panel which opened, but Keith grabbed him to keep him from leaving and closed again.

“Wait, no, listen to me! Listen to me...” Keith tried to calm Lance, his heart beating at full speed. Somehow, Lance's anger managed to appease his own confusion, forcing him to think rationally. To prevent Lance from throwing himself to do something unnecessary for his own good.

The boy inhaled sharply, and looked at Keith, shaking his head.

“Do you realize what this means? He attacked a paladin...”

“We were training. But that's not all... that's not the worst,” Keith looked around, and saw the messy bed in the corner, and all the things that Lance had scattered on the floor and on the few pieces of furniture they all had. Lance followed his gaze and blushed a little, aware of the state of the place.

“Can I sit?” Keith asked, the beating of his heart as furious as the latent pain in his ribs.

“Of... of course. Of course! Sit on the bed, I'll bring you something for the bruise, wait,” Lance answered, and stumbled through the door on the left. It was fortunate that Alteans had similar needs to humans, as all the rooms had access to a small toilet and purified water. At least it was similar to a terrestrial toilet, although they had no showers or private tubs, in response to the Altean custom of bathing in common while doing social life, as Coran once explained when they asked about the pool.

Keith passed between food wrappers, boxes of different materials, various devices connected to the game console, clothes that he had never seen his friend wear, etc. He looked to the front and saw that posters of paper-like materials and holograms, most dedicated to Voltron, in mysterious languages, had also been pasted to the wall next to the bed. Only one looked different: it was like a handmade painting of some bright sea, in pastel colors. It must be a painting by an artist from a distant system. Beside the bed and on the crowded nightstand, he also noticed the orange device with which Lance took pictures everywhere. He really liked photos...

Two things distracted him from his observations. First, he heard splashing sounds that told him that Lance was quickly washing his teeth, which for some reason made him suppress a nervous giggle. It was an unnecessary and kind gesture to him, who was bothering him in the privacy of his room. But that laughter stopped when he noticed, in second place, that sitting on the bed could be a mistake. He ran a hand through the sheet and noticed that it was still warm, and if the whole place smelled vaguely of Lance, the bed must be the source of the scent, because as soon as he sat down he was enveloped by it. A stitch below his navel made him realize the danger of his situation too late, because Lance came out, gave two leaps and arrived at his side with wet hair, a damp towel and a spray.

“For the cut on your lip... put it there, it doesn’t matter if it gets stained,” he said, while dripping a little. Keith took the towel and pressed it to his mouth, while Lance looked at him ruefully.

“Thank you,” Keith mused shyly. Lance smiled, though he was still worried.

“It's nothing, it's nothing. Show me your face.”

Keith slowly lowered the towel, which was stained with blood. Lance took the spray and squeezed it only once, making Keith close his eyes, taken by surprise.

“This leaves the area numb for a while, but it works wonders on bruises. Coran gave one of these to everyone a few months ago, I think he should give you one too,” he left it on the little nightstand full of things on the side, and sitting next to Keith, he asked “Well? What happened?”

Keith started to explain what had happened in the training deck with some difficulty, since it was hard for him to talk now that he felt a part of his lip and chin numb. Lance looked more and more indignant, hatred for Lotor almost as intense as he felt himself. When he got to the part of his mother's identity, he had to stop for a moment. Lance came closer, worried.

“So then, according to him she's alive... Did he tell you who she is?” he asked.

“Her name... her name is Acxa. She's... one of his generals,” Keith said.

Lance was as surprised as Keith expected. His mouth opened as he wrinkled his brow and stood up, shocked.

“His…? But how? One of those women who stole the teludav and the comet?”

Keith nodded.

“And which one is her? How is he so sure? Wasn't she called Krolia...? Man, what else did he tell you?” Lance urged him.

“Nothing. He said he’d give me more info when we find out where is she and his other generals. He wants to know if they allied with Zarkon or not,” Keith replied.

Lance cursed and ran a hand through his hair, thinking.

“Couldn’t it be that he is just taking advantage of you to give him information that interests him?” he asked.

“I thought the same, but how did he know that I'm looking for my mother? I never mentioned it to him, you were there,” Keith replied.

“I have no idea. _Quiznak!_ ” Lance kicked one of his boxes “I'm sick of him playing with us. We should put him back in the cell, or better, a cryopod! Damn it...”

Lance stopped, looking at the dejected Keith, and sighed. He sat down again.

“What will you do? What do you want _us_ to do?” he asked.

Keith paused and looked up to find Lance's worried eyes.

“Nothing. For now, nothing... we have other priorities,” he replied.

“But, Keith...”

“Lance, I’m serious. I don’t trust Lotor, I’ll never trust him. I won’t let him get into my head anymore... I won’t let him do with me what he did with Shiro,” Keith concluded.

Lance exhaled and his eyes went back to the bruise.

“Okay, I understand. But on top of that he does this... I really, _reeeeally_ want to kill him... let me at least punch him once,” Lance asked, gently running his fingertips over Keith's numb skin. Although he could not feel the touch, his entire body vibrated with the soft brush of his fingers. Maybe the spray numbed the brain a little too, because otherwise he could never explain how the next words came out of his mouth.

“Not worth it. I’d rather...” Keith realized that he was about to ask for something stupid and that he should stop, but a part of his mind refused to obey.

“You’d rather…?” Lance asked, curious.

Keith looked up again, this time with a frightened expression, as if he feared what he was about to say.

“Y-you said that the offer was not due limited time,” he stammered, his tongue heavy. Lance opened his mouth a little, trying to interpret what Keith had said and it took him a while to understand what he meant. But his face began to turn red and his eyes widened.

“You... you mean the thing in the observation deck that time?” he asked, unable to believe his eyes when Keith looked down, as if he couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. Evaluating whether it was time to flee from that congested room, after having dared to say something so embarrassing, trying to retrieve the hug he rejected on that cold deck weeks ago.

But Lance immediately slid down to lean his back on the bedhead and, crossing his legs, he said to Keith:

“C’mere”

He obeyed, his heart pounding as if it wanted to escape his chest, and his stomach tight. He lifted his feet to the bed, wondering if he should take off his boots and, sliding his knees, faced Lance. He expected Keith to sit in his arms, but instead, the boy rested his right cheek on his left shoulder and curled up sideways in the space between his legs, breathing in his neck. Keith could feel the shock all over Lance's body, warm and agitated, not knowing where to put his trembling hands. Again, his companion's nerves seemed to relieve him, as if the certainty that he was as frightened as he felt was an antidote.

“I'm so tired of this shit,” he mumbled near Lance’s ear, who shuddered slightly. However, the boy finally lowered his arms and surrounded him with them, hard. His hands still trembled, but they felt firm and warm.

“I know,” Lance murmured, lowering his eyes, brushing his lips against Keith's forehead unintentionally.

“I have no idea what to believe. Is there something certain, something true in all this mess?” Keith mumbled, closing his eyes. Lance paused, watching the slow movement of his eyelashes, but then said:

“I'm here, right?”

Keith lifted his head a little from its position to look at Lance's eyes, which were watching him with a new and unfamiliar expression for him, bright eyes, but drooping eyelids. As if he were looking at something tender, small... fondness.

“Yeah. And I’m lucky because I don’t know... if you weren’t here...” it was impossible to put into words what he wanted to say at that time, but fortunately it wasn’t necessary, because Lance put one of his hands on his cheek and, shortening the few inches that separated their faces, he leaned until he found his lips.

Keith had never kissed anyone, but he was sure that not even all the experience of a lifetime could had prepared him for that moment. He wasn’t sure if he should breathe or not, or move, but he let instinct guide him as his head was filled with a pleasant white mist that only allowed him to be aware of how tight his own muscles were, Lance's warm mentholated breath in his half-open mouth, the moisture of his soft lips and the tingle of his breath on his upper lip. He vaguely regretted the certainty that Lance would feel the bloody taste of his wound, but he seemed immune to all the mundane worries that in other circumstances would have tormented him. 

Lance parted only a few millimeters to murmur, with a thread of voice:

“Sorry... I'm sorry Keith, I...”

“It’s okay,” he whispered in response, with the same feeling that the voice came in instead of out, “it’s okay...”

This time it was Keith who came up again and now he noticed that the tension in Lance's shoulders gave way a little, replaced by a desperation that was making this second kiss mutate into something more intense, deeper. An exploration of limits, a way of expressing things that had not been said, trying to convince themselves that neither of them was imagining it. Lance's hand had slipped into Keith's hair and pulled him closer and closer, while Keith's arms had encircled Lance's neck, responding with the same desperation, with the same need to _explain_.

They let go before things got out of control, a mutual agreement, breath aflutter, wet and numb lips, cheeks flushed, distancing just enough to be able to look each other in the eyes and appreciate the sight, until Lance smiled, Keith too and then they both started to laugh, realizing that they were looking at each other in an unexpected mirror.

Lance squeezed Keith hard in his arms, this time with confidence, as if he had been given a tacit permission to express himself, at last, as he wanted.

“I won’t let you deny it ever, you hear me? You won’t convince me that I imagined this,” Lance said, his voice still trembling.

“Is this what you meant when you said we're a good team?” Keith replied like a drunkard, still enjoying the mental fog that allowed him to say things he normally couldn’t get out.

Lance looked at him with a frown and his chest vibrated while he laughed as if he couldn't help it.

“Damn it, Kogane. You’ll be the death of me,” he sighed, burying his nose in Keith's hair.

In Lance's arms, things looked less frightening, even for a very short space of time. He felt guilty for closing the door to thoughts about Shiro for a moment, but that allowed him to feel hope for the future, the long war that lay ahead, the uncertainty of tomorrow, the horrors that remained to be discovered.

At least he had this, this moment and this space between those warm arms. He wouldn’t ever have dared to dream, especially in that cabin in the desert looking at the stars every night, that traveling between them he’d find something like that. He remembered the night of the jacket, on the cold deck, and realized that already at that moment he had understood what he wanted. "A friend, a good friend... a love".

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think? lol. Cute romance is not my forte but I tried my best. Also I just wanted to give Hunk a few lines, I love him and he barely appears ;-; 
> 
> Ok, first, "Acxa is Keith's mother" headcanon is important to this story. A few weeks ago I read a theory in tumblr about how Acxa could be Keith's twin/sister and I found it quite plausible, but I'll just stick to my original idea in this fic.  
> Second, I'm dying for season 5. The trailer had me gaaaaagging! I'm feeding on only predictions till March 2nd, so toss your prediction my way please!  
> Finally, as I said before, I'm writing something for klanceweek. Aaaand I gotta finish by tomorrow, 'cause it's for day one, prompts are Home/Earth. I'll give you a clue: it's about older paladins! I hope you'll like it ;;.
> 
> Your comments give me life, thank you so much to all of you! Please tell me what you think about this, and any ideas for tags, since I suck at tagging my things :(. Remember you can also find me in [Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading until this point, loves! XoXo!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought that season 5 would come and I'd still be writing the fic I started to cope with the wait lol. I'm not bothered by it anymore, though, because the show pulled some crazy stuff that's even CRAZIER than what I was planning! So everything will keep going according to keikaku ;). Also, if you have time, check the other short fics I've been writting to fight the block! (and Shatt week is coming, I'm totally pitching in!!)  
> Alright, enough blabbering, enjoy!!

“Lance, at least close your mouth,” said Pidge, still looking at her screen. Lance flinched in his seat, blinking dazedly.

They were on the bridge in absence of Coran and Allura, who had descended with Hunk to the planet they currently orbited, old allies of the Coalition, to check on their state. Coran was commissioning him more and more work on the bridge lately, apparently satisfied with his way of responding to emergencies. Although it was satisfying to do things well, Lance usually detested bureaucratic work - no action and too much silence for his taste. But not today. Today he had many things to think about.

He could still feel the metallic taste of Keith's injured lips and the soft texture of his hair on the palm of his hands. Unexpected, but better than he’d ever dreamed. And god, he had dreamed it...

Of course, it could’ve gone better. He didn’t expect it to happen in the dumpster he lived in, nor in his pajamas and in disarray. It could’ve been somewhere more pleasant, illuminated, or perhaps in a dangerous mission, as he fantasized sometimes in private. With a soft confession, or a dramatic one first. Something more shocking and less casual. He knew that he was thinking like a damsel in love, but since everything happened strictly in his head, he gave himself the freedom to imagine those impossible scenarios almost as a hobby and each time he felt less embarrassed. From that day in the cell spying on Allura, in which he had been for the first time so close to his rival, in which they had been stuck almost an entire hour in silence and had exchanged complicity glances, he had confirmed all suspicions that in addition to being his admiration and obsession, Keith was becoming his desire. He didn’t even fight against it, after almost losing him and understanding that in this war anything could happen, he didn’t have time to go into denial. He decided to accept it, improve and hope that perhaps, miraculously, Keith forgot all the times he antagonized him with his puerile competitive attitude and maybe... just maybe, one day he’d see him as something more than a friend, among many other things that required his attention. And when that happened, he wanted to be ready.

But it was impossible to be ready around someone like Keith. Everything he did was unexpected, and every word a bet. He’d never have dared to dream, even in his craziest fantasies, that the guy would go looking for him, seeking for affection. He always believed that it’d be the other way around. He always believed that Keith was an untouchable person and that he, who always enjoyed skinship, had the worst luck in the universe for liking someone so incompatible, condemned to settle with _imagining..._

His entire body seemed to vibrate as he remembered Keith's surprising weight on him, the agitation of his breathing, the tension of his arms around his neck... He just wanted to be able to rejoice in those memories eternally, but that wasn’t possible when the _gremlin_ was on duty with him. He looked at Pidge with a frown and snapped:

“No one calls, give me a break.”

“Your ‘just lobotomized’ face disturbs me,” Pidge said, cleaning her glasses.

It seemed that she was going to continue working, but suddenly her fingers stopped on the keyboard. The girl looked up from the screen, casting a critical glance at Lance's appearance.

“Wait... could it be that Keith talked to you?” she asked.

He wasn’t even swallowing anything, but Lance choked anyway.

“W-what? Keith? Why Keith?” he coughed, red faced.

Pidge’s eyes widened and an evil smirk crossed her face.

“Ohhh, bullseye. What did you talk about?”

“Talk? Nothing. Actually... we barely said anything…” said Lance, red to the ears. Pidge looked at him with a neutral expression for three entire seconds before putting her hand to her ear.

“Hunk? Hunk, answer asap, this is urgent.”

“Pidge!” Lance snapped, but after a few seconds he had to turn around when Hunk's face appeared on one of the bridge’s holographic screens.

“What happened? You startled me,” he said, looking worried.

“Are you alone there?” Pidge asked.

“Yeah, I’m lending a hand fixing the sho'ctor's main generator, what’s going on? Should I call Allura?”

“No, no. Lower your voice and listen,” said Pidge, looking at Lance and wiggling her eyebrows, pure evil “Lance and Keith finally... _did it_ ”

“PIDGE, WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” screamed Lance, while Hunk opened his mouth in a perfect O.

“Wait-- I know you're doing it on purpose, but just in case. What are you trying to tell me? I don’t want any details, just...” Hunk managed to say.

“WE DID NOTHING!” Lance screamed again “We just talked about... something.”

“That's what I meant, I don’t know what are you two thinking about,” Pidge said, settling down satisfied in her seat. She added in a soft sigh: “Ah... I love being right.”

“I don’t get it. Are you telling me that the awful, cringey pep talk from this morning actually _worked_? Are you kiddin’ me?” Hunk asked, incredulous.

“What pep talk? _Quiznak_... What did you do?” Lance asked, covering his face with his hands.

“Nah, Keith appeared in the kitchen and I told him I didn’t catch any sleep and he lectured me with his attitude of ‘you gotta rest don’t do that hurduuurh’, but I told him that if he wanted he was invited to our next tournament in your room and he got nervous, so I told him that if he had a problem with you, you should talk and fix it and he just fled... that's all,” Pidge replied, so fast that she barely breathed, while Lance looked at her horrified.

“You-- did you tell him something about me? A-about...?” Lance stuttered.

“About the dumb face you make whenever he’s around you? Never,” Pidge replied, sarcastically.

“Swear it for your mama,” grunted Lance.

“We didn’t say anything compromising, buddy. We are nosy, yeah, but we have a limit,” Hunk said, putting a finger on his temple. “Today was a surprise, though. I mean, Pidge and I knew you were a little bit, uh... interested? Positively interested? In Keith lately, but I didn’t expect that today--"

“I did,” said Pidge, raising her hand.

“What? What happened today?” Lance asked, clutching the back of the seat in such despair that Pidge and Hunk couldn’t hide their giggles. Hunk said:

“Well, I went to the kitchen and Pidge was torturing him in with this nonsense about love problems -- hey, don’t deny it, you are evil-- And when I _totally innocently_ asked if Keith had a problem of those, he rushed off! I got to thinking 'Oh _quiznak_ , Keith has a space romance and here lies all of Lance's hopes', but Pidge explained to me that they were actually talking about _you_. So, 2 + 2...”

“You... how... why... Arghhhh!” Lance ruffled his hair with anger “What kind of friends are you?!”

“The best? We are helping you!” Pidge replied. Lance just pressed his lips. Provoking Keith was hardly a help.

“We didn’t say anything about you, dude. In fact, we only talked about him, so he's the only one harmed,” Hunk said, looking a little guilty.

“That doesn’t matter anymore, in the end you talked about it, right?” Pidge asked, resting her jaw in her hand.

“Well, actually…”

Actually no, they didn’t. After the kisses they just were quiet for a long time, Lance taking advantage of every second to feel blessed with every feeling he could appreciate and fighting to keep the mood warm and rational. Although Keith seemed satisfied with the silence, it was Lance's worst enemy, who always made a lot of noise to avoid it, so in such a quiet and tense state his head was filled with stupid intertwined thoughts: _Was it wrong to have reversed the order of events? Wasn’t this the moment when he gave the corresponding half-hour speech explaining his long and tortuous path to this point? Or at least a brief " I love you"? No, too intense.“I totally like you”? Yeah, maybe that was better... but what if Keith - ohshitpleaseno - didn’t feel the same? Nightmare material… What if it was his Galra genes made him do this, curling like a cat? The Galra looked like overgrown cats... overgrown and ugly... No, how dumb, it’s just that there are things that don’t need to be said and Keith knows that... because he knows, right? Did he know that he was doing his best out of pure love? Did he know that he regretted being so mean to him? And could it be that he knew that hip dangerously resting on his crotch was driving him crazy?_

The minutes had passed and he had noticed how Keith's body was stiffening little by little under his arms. He feared that saying something would break the moment, but suddenly, Keith had let go of his embrace with a pained expression.

“I think I’ll go to the med bay,” he had said. Lance looked at him with concern.

“What is it? Did he hurt you somewhere else?” he had asked, quickly remembering how much he hated Lotor now.

“Yeah, but nothing serious,” Keith had said, putting a hand to his ribs. Lance had reached out to lift his shirt and look, but Keith dodged him, nervously.

“Seriously, it's nothing... don’t worry. I'm going now,” he got up and had opened the door.

“Wait, I'm going with you--" Lance had tried to say.

“No, it’s late. You have to go to the bridge... see you later,” Keith had said and just left, leaving him there, still warm, stunned and with his hand still extended. Maybe it hadn’t been nice trying to look under his clothes, but it wasn’t such a big deal either... or was it?

And now Lance had to explain to his friends what had happened without revealing Keith's secret, without telling them about Lotor and, hopefully, without confessing that he was two steps ahead of what they believed.

“Err, hello? Bro?” Hunk tried to return him to reality, but Lance only managed to scratch his head, looking for what to say. Pidge narrowed her eyes and said:

“You know what, I think I’d rather forget it. Don’t hurt yourself there trying to sugar coat it”

“All right. Better that way,” Lance sighed, relieved.

“Oh no, now I really wanna know,” said Hunk, bringing his face closer to the screen.

“Sorry buddy, top secret,” said Lance, trying to change the tone of the conversation. Lifting a finger, he added: “Anyway, don’t make it awkward, okay? Leave Keith out of your jokes and blackmail, be content with making my life totally miserable.”

“Aw, Lance, that's almost...” Hunk was speaking when the emergency signal was activated and a message from the Rebel command entered. Pidge answered the signal immediately and Matt Holt's face appeared on another screen.

“Hi Matt, what's it? News about Shiro?” his sister asked. Matt's face, already paler and sadder than usual, seemed to darken at the mention of the name.

“Nothing, unfortunately. But this is an emergency. We have received several warning calls from Sector Six of the freed quadrant. They have detected galra fleets heading to Pareimidos.”

“That's in the limit of the current Galra domain” said Pidge, worried and turning on the stellar chart.

“So they finally move. Any estimate of the size of the fleet?” Lance asked.

“At the moment, at least three battle cruisers and their respective fighter ships have been sighted” said Matt. The paladins looked at each other worriedly.

“I think I'll call Allura now. This smells like danger,” said Hunk. All the others nodded, nervous.

* * *

  
Tension crossed the bridge. The entire Voltron team was present and in direct communication with their allies of the Blade, Captain Olia and the most important leaders of the Coalition. All faces looked worried, but there was also a noticeable discomfort in the presence of the guest that nobody seemed to be able to get used to. Lotor didn’t seem bothered in the least, quite comfortable on the bridge.

Lance was divided between glaring at the prince with all possible hatred and looking at Keith, who was on the other side. The boy didn’t look back, but Lance didn’t take it personal. The brief blush that he noticed on his cheeks when they crossed gazes when entering the room was enough.

“We believe that they want to reclaim the sector for their resources. It's big, there are three systems rich in minerals and a balmera between them” explained an agent of the Blade, on line with Kolivan.

“But it's an old sector of the Empire, shouldn’t it be dry already?” Captain Olia asked, surrounded by her people on the screen.

“The balmera is, apparently, though we haven’t been able to go check its condition yet,” replied the Blade, and a sad silent fell between them for a few seconds. Lotor's voice cut the pause.

“I doubt that they look for something in particular in that sector. It is true, it’s consumed and its only value is strategic, but even so it seems too much effort to just claim a group of sterile planets.”

Everyone looked at him with different expressions of displeasure.

“I suppose that you’d have some idea, knowing the dirty methods of yours,” Olia replied, supported by her people behind her back.

“It is not necessary to know them to guess that they must have other intentions, it just requires a bit of common sense” answered Lotor. He ignored the exclamations of hate as he silently asked Allura for permission to turn the map. She nodded. He observed it and said:

“Maybe it's a distraction. It would be useful to find out who is leading the attack, if there is one.”

“You think they won’t really attack?” Kolivan asked, serious.

“I believe so. It is strange that after such a prolonged silence they would gather troops only to take this dead sector. Perhaps it would be more important to find out why. Why there?” he looked at the map with attention.

“Do we have any point of interest that is far from where the army is concentrated?” Keith asked. Pidge made traces appear on the map.

“It's a bit absurd, but maybe we can start at the point literally farthest from its location and begin to discard” explained the girl, while observing the converging point of the lines.

They looked at the map and adjusted the parameters to delimit certain galaxies and sectors for a while, looking for something interesting, when Coran exclaimed:

“Wait a tick! Isn’t that... the Daibazaal system?”

Lotor looked surprised, but quickly his face hardened.

“Of course. The sustainability of the Empire depends on the quintessence. With this war and the last defeat, reserves must be in short supply... And if they gave him the idea...”

“What are you talking about?” Allura asked.

“Has there been any news of my generals?” the prince asked in turn. Lance glanced nervously at Keith, who didn’t even flinch.

“They haven’t been seen. Our agents haven’t heard of their capture,” said Kolivan.”

“Because they did not capture them. They must have gone directly to Zarkon to offer him a deal. To sell my idea, knowing what that would mean,” said Lotor, clenching his fists.

“What idea? What you tried to do in the rift?” Allura asked, now also worried.

“The rift opens the door to other dimensions and Honerva's studies indicate that it is an unlimited source of quintessence. But it cannot be easily accessed. Material that synchronizes with the rift tissue is required. I know that's why my father desperately looks for Voltron. That's why I created my ship from the comet,” explained Lotor.

“But then why would they go to the rift? They have no way to enter--" Pidge managed to ask, but Lotor interrupted.

“They have. Two ships were made from the comet. My generals have the twin of my Sincline.”

The whole room erupted in exclamations of surprise and outrage.

“DUDE, if that’s not crucial information, I don’t know what it is!” Hunk said, panicking.

“Are you crazy?! Why didn’t you tell us before?!” Lance exploded.

“Because it doesn’t matter” said Lotor, over the noise, “I didn’t consider it a threat because we already verified that it’s not enough to gather the quintessence from there. Our attempt failed. But there is one last possibility. If the idea came to ears of Zarkon’s witch, it could be dangerous. I didn’t imagine they would be such fools.”

“We have an invasion to deal with, Prince Lotor. We can’t attend to that right now,” reminded them one of the leaders, worried.

“I doubt we really have. But even if we did, if we allow them to explode the rift, all of the Coalition’s efforts will be useless.” Lotor turned to Allura. “Princess, you said your plan was to attack the heart of the Empire and drain it. Wherever they are gathering quintessence is their true centre. If we do not stop them now, we could face a worse threat than before.”

“But it's too far away. The only way to get there is through a wormhole with the Castleship, and we cannot leave our allies alone to face such an attack,” replied Allura.

“It's not a real attack. Those systems are dead, they have no interest in them,” replied Lotor.

“But there are people living in the surrounding areas. If we allow the Galra to enter, they could invade them immediately,” said Olia.

“And if we allow them to take the rift, they will have the power to counterattack as has never been witnessed before!” Lotor exclaimed, intimidating. He seemed genuinely concerned about the possibility and his concern seemed to spread to everyone.

Pidge looked at the map critically.

“Maybe... we should go see what happens, before the attack here is triggered,” she said.

“Pidge?!” exclaimed Lance and Coran at the same time.

“Hunk and I saw Lotor's ship. If the other one is the same, it has the potential to retain large amounts of quintessence. It just seemed to lack some protection, what’d happen if the witch can do that?” Pidge said.

“But if the Galra decide to attack right now, our allies will have to face it without the Castle, and without Voltron,” Allura replied.

“They don’t know what we know. Our troops have not moved yet. We just need to go right now, see if they are really gathering quintessence and come back. Do you think you can make two jumps in a row with the Castleship, Allura?” Pidge asked.

The princess thought for a moment, with her arms crossed and her thumbnail brushing her lips. She was nervous.

“I can. But we can’t go without the approval of our allies. I need your opinion,” she said.

“There’s no time--" said Lotor, but the leader of the Olkari spoke.

“Quintessence is a great threat and its corruption worries us as much as a possible invasion. Besides, our readings indicate that at least for the last two vargas there has not been movement among the assembled galra troops. Maybe they are waiting for the rest.”

“In that case, the more we discuss it, the more likely we are to fail,” said Pidge. “We have to move right now.”

“It's a unique opportunity. If the witch is there, only Voltron can do something about it. It could be the victory we were waiting for,” sentenced Lotor. Everyone present was uneasy, but Olia took the floor.

“We can give you a varga, at best. We are going to gather our fleets at a distance. We’re the fastest, if we must go to the front. We’ll try to cloak and cover our movements as long as we can. Can you take care of it, Matt?”

“I’m on it,” he replied, disappearing from sight immediately.

“We can resist an attack long enough for you to return, in case they advance. But I can’t promise more before so many Galra battle cruisers. Without Voltron...” said the captain.

“We’ll come back immediately if there’s a warning signal,” Keith said, taking a step forward, “same if we don’t find anything. I just hope this isn’t a complete waste of time.”

He gave Lotor a cold look and then looked at the rest of the team, who nodded and took their respective positions. Allura placed herself on the controls of the bridge, while Coran calculated the coordinates with Pidge and Hunk’s help.

Lance didn’t like the idea of abandoning their allies to go to the other end of the galaxy, but he didn’t want to argue. Lotor, normally unalterable, was so worried that it was what actually scared him and Lance supposed it had been the same for everyone else.

However, something else disturbed him. From his seat he could see Lotor watching Allura with too much attention. He seemed absorbed in the movements of the princess, who at that time was beginning to conjure the magic of her Altean blood to move the castle through the wormhole. The intense look of the Galra prince on the Altean princess upset him. He had a bad feeling about it, but he couldn’t tell if it was caused by the deep hatred he felt now or some other reason. Before, he would have considered himself just jealous, but this was not the case. It wasn’t a mere petty feeling, but genuine concern... He couldn’t think about it much more, because the Castleship vibrated as always and went through the hole, entering the orbit of the extinct planet Daibazaal.

Coran began to scan the area and, surprised, observed the readings of the system.

“I detect a Galra cruiser in the vicinity of Daibazaal. I don’t see fighters around, but a group of individuals nearby.”

“It's not a battle cruiser. Nor is it the witch's. Can you see what’s happening in the rift?” Lotor asked.

Coran tried to get an image without entering the detection range of the average Galra ships. A distant image of the rift appeared on screen.

“What is that?” Allura asked, pointing to the construction. A white portal seemed to surround the space around it.

“My attempt,” said Lotor, bitterly. His eyes fixed on the land near the structure, where they saw movement. Suddenly, he uncrossed his arms and approached the panel.

“Indeed, they are my generals. That's the other Sincline, and they have people with them. They're working on something...” He frowned. “Wait... that's Mebarak.”

“Mebarak?!” all the paladins exclaimed, also approaching. The individuals were barely distinguishable at such distance, but Lotor pointed to a subject sitting on top of a round vehicle. His face wasn’t clear, but he was the only one riding one of those.

“He has been mounted on those things since dozens of deca-phoebs. Bastard.” said Lotor. He straightened, now looking at the crew “It's a unique opportunity. It seems to me that it is in everyone's best interests to stop this operation, but we should obtain as much information as possible from them too. The ship must be one of the Galra labs I mentioned before.”

“Yes, but if they see us they’ll notice that the Castle is here and the Galra army could start moving in our absence,” said Hunk, wringing his hands nervously.

“We have to infiltrate that cruiser and extract the information. I can do it,” said Keith. The chances of finding out something about Shiro seemed to have made him forget the previous caution and now he was excited by this mission, similar to those of the Blade. Lance felt something burning in his chest.

“You are NOT going alone,” he snapped, “If you go, I'll go too.”

Keith didn’t manage to answer anything, because sirens began to sound from the Galra ship. The systems had to be superior to those of other cruisers, because they had detected them above the Castle's camouflage systems. The entire crew froze for a moment, in the seconds when they had to decide what to do.

As always, Allura was the first to react, and she did so with determination.

“Okay, we'll do this: Hunk, you and I will distract them. I will need you to cover me while with Blue we emit waves to distract the cruiser radars. Keith, Lance and Pidge will enter the ship using the Green Lion's camouflage. Extract any data you can and leave. If reinforcements appear, we leave. The withdrawal order is absolute.”

Allura spoke directly to Keith:

“Absolute, no matter what. Understood?”

Keith opened his mouth to reply, but decided to seal his lips and nodded, perhaps to not waste time.

“Coran, you'll have to raise the defenses of the Castle and wait for me to return to open the wormhole. It’ll be risky. Besides...” Allura looked at Lotor.

“I'd prefer to accompany you. I have as much interest as you in the outcome of this operation and you could use a hand,” said the prince, visibly anxious for some action. Allura seemed to consider it.

“No,” she finally said. “You stay on the bridge. You can’t leave here. Any attempt to sabotage us cancels our deal immediately and there will be consequences, understood?”

Lotor crossed his arms, dissatisfied with the order, but nodded anyway.

“Take care, Coran,” said Allura, looking at the prince as a warning.

“There is nothing to fear, princess,” said Coran, proudly. Lotor shook his head, but Lance thought that Coran would have no chance against him, even if he was unarmed, because not even Keith had been able to beat him. They’d have to go with the constant worry of having the enemy unguarded on their own bridge, which was real madness, but it was too late to protest.

Pidge, Hunk and Allura went to the elevators inside the bridge that would take them straight to the cockpit of their respective lions, but Lance and Keith would have to take the long route to the Green Lion's hangar. They left immediately, as every time they had to get on each other’s lions, taking the lifts that shortened the way. They were both silent, too agitated to talk about anything personal, but Lance was feeling a familiar stitch in some hidden space in his chest and decided to say something to calm down.

“Hey, Keith,” he called him. The boy looked up and watched him, though his eyes gave the impression that he was thinking about something else. Lance frowned and said:

“I know that the possibility of finding something about Shiro is exciting, but... don’t overdo it. We have another emergency coming.”

“I know,” Keith said, sulking. He hadn’t liked the comment, but Lance considered it necessary. Always, whenever it was about Shiro... the stitch came back, and he identified it as his stupid jealousy. He was so happy with everything that had happened, that he had forgotten about it until now, that its horrid head was appearing from where he had buried it.

“I just want you to remember that we all want the same thing, but we also have other problems. Nothing else,” said Lance, this time in such a dry tone that it made Keith look at him questioningly.

He regretted it immediately. No, he wasn’t going to show his worst face in these circumstances, he had to control himself. He returned his gaze to Keith and forced a small smile, which made the other boy blush a little. He was about to put on the helmet he was carrying, but that tender reaction provoked the inevitable: he took a step to shorten the distance between them and put his free hand on Keith's cheek, pulling his hair out of the way.

“For good luck,” he said, and leaned over to gently brush Keith's lips with his, barely an echo of that morning kisses, for a few brief seconds. He knew he shouldn’t do it, that he would probably bother Keith for distracting him from the mission, but he needed... he just needed a little certainty. A little security, to ward off the dark thoughts he hated so much. They parted and Lance prepared for an attack, but instead, Keith just looked at the ground, his face flushed, and then chose to put on his own helmet.

“Hope it works,” he said, simply. Lance felt his chest swell with the joy of checking, for the last time, that he had not dreamed the episode from the morning. And they had a conversation pending, so they HAD to get out of this totally unharmed. Lance took Keith's gloved hand and brought it to his lips. The black paladin's blush was visible even through his helmet.

“Of course. Besides, I'll be there covering your back, what could go wrong?” Lance said with a smirk.

“Many things,” Keith muttered, but Lance gave him a reassuring pat on the curve of his back as they came out of the elevator.

* * *

  
The sirens continued ringing and from the invisible Green Lion they could see a group of fighter ships leaving several hangars of the strange Galra cruiser. Unlike the others, it was smaller and didn’t house as many combat ships, although they were enough to be problematic. The explosions started immediately: Allura and Hunk had already engaged in combat.

They descended on top of the cruiser, undetected, and as they scanned the surface for an opening, they noticed that a pair of strange cannons they didn’t remember seeing on other cruisers appeared on the deck and pointed directly towards the Castle.

“Coran, they’ll attack you! They have artillery on top,” warned him Pidge.

“Shields are up, but we can’t shoot the cruiser without risking destroying it,” said Coran.

The paladins saw the cannons beginning to charge menacingly and Lance couldn’t help but remember the episode of Naxzela. They shone with the same intensity. They weren’t common cannons...

“Pidge, let's drop the cloaking, destroy them before they fire!” he exclaimed.

The girl didn’t think twice. Leaving the camouflage, preparing her bayard and studying the surface, she proceeded to shoot one of her most powerful weapons: her vine cannon. From the place where the ray struck, branches emerged that, as if the Lion commanded them, swallowed both guns until they imploded inside. The vines remained immobile, blackened and hugging both steaming turrets. Three exclamations of triumph came from the three paladins.

“Good one, Pidge!” Hunk said through the comm, “but you better hurry. The rift crew are getting on a ship and we can't stop them...”

The paladins looked at each other worriedly and Pidge led Green towards the cracks created by the branches of her cannon. The Lion tore the crumpled metal like cardboard and made the opening larger, clutching its claws to it and lowering its head towards the hole. It was time to descend.

The guys left the Lion and descended through the thick branches that had extended crossing at least two levels of the structure. They found themselves on a dimly lit corridor, on the upper level of the ship. The corridor was wide, full of closed doors on both sides. The branches had destroyed a shaft of what appeared to be an elevator and had traversed it cleanly, losing itself to the lower floor. In the middle of the corridor the doors were interrupted by an entrance that led to some stairs and, towards the opposite end of where they were, there was a classic Galra gate that had to be the floor control room. Pidge was describing the place via comm to Coran and Lotor.

“It sounds like a prison. They are always on the farthest level from the hangars,” said Coran.

“That means it has to be Mebarak's lab. You have to find the control room and make a copy of everything you find there, as quickly as possible,” said Lotor.

They couldn’t answer, because as soon as they crossed an invisible line in the middle of the corridor, a light came on from a corner and a flurry of lasers began to shoot in their direction.

“Easy for you to say it!” Lance shouted as the three paladins, covering themselves with their shields, ran across the hall to reach and open the huge door, finding themselves before a round room with a main panel in the center. In it they also found six sentinel robots waiting for them, which opened fire as soon as the gate opened. They were surrounded, but Keith stepped forward and simply slipped under one of them, cutting it cleanly in one motion, while Lance stood back to back with Pidge, protecting her from the corridor shots as she shielded him from the sentinels, while extending her bayard and immobilizing the nearest guard, throwing him against the one on the side and disarming their formation. They quickly entered the room to cover themselves and Lance briskly fired at the sentry closest to the control panel. Keith got rid of another sentry who tried to shoot him and Pidge scuttled down his side, looking for a port to connect to the prison’s controls. The last of the robots detected the movement and aimed at her, but Lance shot him directly to the head, making it fall with a metallic noise. Keith and Lance looked at each other from the opposite ends of the room with fleeting relief and approached the thick panel in the center. The shots in the hall stopped when they went through the door, apparently that was the range of the weapon, but all the alarms of the cruiser were active and at any moment they’d be overwhelmed. Pidge worked as fast as she could.

“Transferring a map of the cruiser, Coran. I only have access to the prison wing information.” Her eyes widened. “You were right, it's not a normal prison! They are treated as ‘subjects’... shouldn’t we release them?”

At that moment they heard from the stairs the echo of a new horde of sentinel robots that soon appeared in the corridor, running towards them. Lance and Keith covered Pidge with their shields. Through the window behind them they could see Allura and Hunk facing the enemy ships.

“I'm going to close the entrance to this wing so that the sentinels stop coming up, but we have to hurry! I need your help, Keith!” Pidge said, between the noise of the shots. They were a short distance from the control panel that required a Galra palm and Lance stood up first, bearing the shots on his shield.

“Hurry up!” he screamed. Keith got up enough to unlock the control and Pidge used his information to enter the system. They heard the door in the middle of the corridor closing, crushing the robots that passed through it, but they still had to deal with the sentinels they had managed to enter.

“It's a prison, there must be... No, I know!” Pidge said, typing furiously on her holographic keyboard. Lance's shield was beginning to wear and blink, when the girl yelled “Get down!” and from the hall came a burst of lasers that landed on the sentinels, without even touching the entrance of the room. Lance stretched his upper half on one side and helped shoot those who somehow hadn’t been reached, until there was none standing.

“Wooooohooo! That’s my girl!” celebrated Lance, while Keith turned to look at the panel. He put his hand back and searched in the console.

“I’m gonna open the doors of the cells. Let's try to get the prisoners out before the sentries burst the door to the stairs,” he said.

“Guys, you're right on top of the central lab!” Coran exclaimed through the comm, “Hurry, I’m detecting movement at the other end of the system, we are a few ticks away from meeting their reinforcements and the Princess and Hunk cannot contain a battle cruiser by themselves for too long!”

“I second that!” said Hunk, grunting in stress.

Keith quickly opened the cell doors and then addressed his companions.

“Lance, help as many prisoners as possible to climb the branches to the Green Lion. Pidge, you and I will go down the elevator hole to the floor below.”

“You can’t! There must be dozens of sentinels down there!” exclaimed Lance.

“They won’t risk destroying the laboratory, I think we have a chance” said Pidge, in a hurry “If I can connect to the security systems downstairs like this one, I can reprogram them in the same way...”

“But...” Lance was not convinced, but he could see frightened faces poking out of the open doors. The prisoners appeared and in the closed gate to the stairs the firings from the sentinels could be heard.

“There's no time to lose,” Keith put a hand on Lance's shoulder as he passed, but headed straight for the hole made by Pidge's cannon, who also followed him at full speed. The fear of seeing Keith's figure coming down the hole paralyzed him for a few seconds, but he had to react. Lance swallowed and went out into the hall, facing the frightened prisoners.

“Alrighty, everyone please get out of your cells quickly and get close! There’s no time to lose!” Lance was waiting for a bunch of people but he saw, surprised, that only seven or eight prisoners left the cells by their own means. A few others required help, but in general, the cells were empty.

“Not everyone is here” said one of them, tall, of thick contexture and yellow skin, as if guessing his thoughts, “Some are down in the laboratory.”

“Well, for now let’s help those who can’t climb these branches to the ship that is above. It’s one of the Lions of Voltron, there’s nothing to fear! Move!” Lance shouted, hurrying the prisoners.

“Voltron?” A familiar voice was heard from one of the cells. Lance saw his face lean out, fearful as always, clutching the doorframe with all his hands. The boy was slow to understand why seeing him there made his blood run cold, but quickly the worst conclusions took shape in his head.

“Slav? What are you doing here?” Lance asked, running towards him.

“Ohhh, paladin Lance! I'm so glad to be in the reality where you came! The odds were about...!”

“SLAV, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!” Lance took him by his little arms and moved him roughly. He needed answers.

“Ayyy... it was-- it was Shiro. Shiro... turned us both to them!” the scientist whimpered, while Lance felt his heart descend to his feet.

It wasn’t possible.

It wasn’t, and yet...

The shock turned to panic when he heard Keith's voice in his ear. The comm had come back to life and his love cried out in a choked, excited, naively triumphant voice:

“Guys... it's Shiro! Shiro is here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Pidge, she should have slept like Keith said, things are getting crazy up there! This chapter was thiccccc, just like my writer block! lol. And also...  
> **SEASON 5 SPOILERS AHEAD**
> 
>  
> 
> As I said before, I'm actually glad because season 5 didn't crush my headcanons as I expected! Actually I don't feel discouraged about anything except for Krolia, who is so great that I'd love to include her here, but even if I did, I still could so... great! The rest of it will be intact (yes, even Zarkon), and I'll finish my story the way I planned since the beginning. Wasn't it great to see so much Lotor on season 5? You must have noticed that I'm actually a stan so yeeeesss, I loved it! Also the Lotura, though I'm a bit dissapointed of the dismissal of Allura's awareness for him. She gave Keith a harder time than the Galra Prince? lol. Either way, I liked it overall, though of course the lack of klance (and shatt, my other fav) is making me THIRSTY. And the whole temple thing was so... stoned. Lol sorry, but they smoked something before writing that!
> 
> SO! I aspire to end this by chapter 15 at most. I eagerly await for your validation through a comment, because I'm a weak creature. Good, bad, critiques, random opinions about season 5... anything. I'LL TAKE ANYTHING.
> 
> Xoxo and thank you so much for reading this, loves! <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hum... hello? I'm sorry, I've neglected my first born for SO LONG! But the story is going to end eventually, I gotta pump a few more chapters and we're done!  
> TW: Violence. A mutilation there, no blood though, bet you can imagine what's it about. Or maybe not, but trust me, it's sad but not gore. Drama and a bit of fluff after that, enjoy.

The lab was empty, as Pidge had supposed. The ominous silence and the opaque violet lights gave it the classic gloomy touch of all Galra bases, but unlike most of these, the place was messy, almost chaotic. Whoever worked here was not very diligent about order.

The battle sounded in the background, as well as the steps of the sentinels trying to climb to the top floor. They didn’t have much time, Keith thought, as Pidge scanned the place, looking for a matrix to connect to.

“I think the main console is over there. At least it's the biggest," she said, trotting towards a metal structure in a corner. "They’ll know we're here any moment, could you watch the door?”

“Which one?” Keith asked, noting that in front of him there were at least four doors firmly locked.

“Excellent question,” replied the green paladin, already typing on her holographic screen. “Give me a sec.”

While Pidge took care of it, Keith approached the doors, trying to hear what was behind them. No sound could be distinguished from that side, probably none of them was facing the corridor. They all had a panel on the side: a scanner. Without thinking too much, Keith placed his palm on the nearest one.

“Hey! Watch out…! No, forget it, at least you helped me find the floor management system, good job. I'm going to close the entrance, they already know we're down here, but they won’t be able to pass,” Pidge announced, satisfied.

Keith smiled and peered at the door he had activated, which opened with a threatening sound. Inside there was a table that immediately sent a chill down his spine. Around it was everything that could belong to an operating room, but from a horror movie: violet lights, sharp implements and, in a corner, what looked like a metal shelf filled with liquids in jars. One of them caught his attention: its brightness was too familiar...

“Quintessence,” Keith mumbled, rushing to take the square jar that contained it. It was the same as those he had seen in the hands of Zarkon's witch.

“Pidge, I found something interesting ... Pidge?” Keith ran back to her, but she just looked at the screen, pale. She muttered something.

“What happened?” Keith asked, leaving the jar aside. Pidge seemed to react and gave a single swipe to her keyboard, jumping over the main computer, running straight to the third door.

“Keith, Shiro is here!” she shouted.

His heart froze and then it started pumping again, quickly. His reflexes saved him from smashing the quintessence jar in his run to follow his teammate to the door, which had opened as well as the other two. They both entered, and all air seemed to escape from his lungs.

Shiro was tied to the table, visibly battered, his hair even longer than after ‘his’ previous escape. His eyes were closed. He had to be asleep, Keith thought, feeling his own pulse in his ears, he was just sleeping, he couldn’t be ...

Pidge tried to remove the metal restrictions with tight lips, as if she were about to cry. She looked around for a panel to control them or something, while Keith used his helmet options to analyze Shiro. He gave off heat, so he was still alive.

Keith felt so much relief that he could have slipped to the floor, but he thought of Lance and put a hand to the comm on the helmet, to inform everyone. With a choked voice, he said:

“Guys... it's Shiro! Shiro is here!”

“Shiro?!” The confused voices of Allura, Hunk and Coran resounded in his ears.

Pidge finally found the button she was looking for and the metal restraints disappeared under the table, but that very moment both were startled by a scream in their ears.

“DON’T GET NEAR HIM!” Lance's voice sounded like he was running. “That's not Shiro!”

“No, Lance, this time he is...!” Keith tried to explain himself, but Lance interrupted him.

“No! Slav is also here... he says that Shiro surrendered them both! Get away!” he screamed.

They were slow to process those words. Disoriented, Keith found Pidge's eyes wide open, as confused as he was.

“Oh, no... paladins, there’s movement in the radars. A Galra fleet is heading towards... you!” Coran exclaimed “Captain Olia informs us that the Galra cruises in Pareimidos have not even moved... It's a trap!”

“Return immediately. If they capture the three lions separately we will be doomed. We have to blow that laboratory and get out of here," said Lotor, urging them on.

“No, I’m not leaving without Shiro!” Keith replied.

“... Keith?”

A weak voice came from the table. Shiro had slightly opened his eyes, as if it were hard for him to see, but he seemed to be searching for the source of the voice.

“Shiro!” Pidge put a hand under his head, trying to sit him, but Shiro flinched violently, scaring both paladins.

“W-what's happening ... Again ...?” Shiro seemed to be regaining consciousness, but not orientation. Feeling that his heart ached in his chest, Keith made another attempt to get closer.

“Don’t!”

Lance had descended to the lab and came shouting into it, the bayard in his hands, ready to shoot, aiming at Shiro.

“Lance, what the hell are you doing!” Keith yelled at him, but then a voice rang in everyone's communicators, freezing them in their places.

“Paladins, this is your black paladin, Shiro. Stop this attack immediately.”

With their mouths open, the paladins looked at each other and then at the Shiro on the table.

“Right now, Emperor Zarkon is heading straight to your position. It won’t be long before he surrounds you. I'll help you escape, but I need you to surrender Prince Lotor first.”

“What are you talking about? Where are you?” Allura asked on the line, her voice agitated by the battle against the combat ships.

“Just listen. You must surrender Prince Lotor. Leave him near the rift and we’ll meet there. We can escape together from this. You just have to hand him over and Zarkon will let us go. I’ll go with you.”

“It is a trap. Obviously.” Lotor's voice sounded calm. “My father would never prefer me over Voltron, this deal is fake. They are using your paladin to gain your trust and make you fall. Come back immediately.”

A sudden movement startled Pidge, Lance and Keith. The Shiro of the laboratory had fallen off the table and crawled out of reach from them, his face contorted in terror. Pidge put a hand to her mouth, Lance had forgotten his bayard, pointing to the ground.

“Allura, Shiro is here. He’s right in front of us...” Keith tried to get closer to his friend, but he was pulling away again. “He’s not doing well...”

“You're wrong, Keith, that’s not me. Help us get out of here. Surrender Lotor, you just have to hand him over and we can go back!” said the voice on the comm line. Keith realized that Shiro was using his personal communicator, the one every paladin had. He had to be the one who had fled the Castle then...

The boy turned to look at his teammates and ask them for help to decide, but before he could even finish turning, as if in slow motion, he saw Lance raise his rifle and aim directly at him.

“Watch out!” screamed the red paladin, firing over Keith’s shoulder and hitting the wall behind, while Shiro threw himself to one side to avoid the shot, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. He got up immediately and tried to grab Keith again.

The boy couldn’t think straight. Adrenaline dictated him every movement by pure instinct, dodging the blows that Shiro tried to give him with his Galra hand, but in his mind all ideas were disconnected. The screams of Pidge and Lance made no sense, nor the sudden pain he felt when he hit the metal table.

“What's happening, guys?!” Hunk was trying to get someone to inform him anything.

“Return AT ONCE!” Lotor insisted on commanding.

“Shiro is attacking us! He was on the ground and suddenly jumped on Keith...” Pidge’s voice was breaking.

“Paladins, hurry, if Zarkon arrives before you hand Lotor over--” the insistent voice of the other Shiro rushed them.

“Oh? What will happen if Zarkon arrives before they surrender me, paladin?” Lotor asked coldly.

“... The Emperor will catch them and we won’t be able to get out of here,” Shiro replied.

“How can you be so sure? Who gave you such information? Lotor questioned him.

“You're just a dirty traitor and won’t...”

A blast didn’t allow Keith to hear the rest of the discussion. Lance had shot Shiro and this time hit the middle of his Galra arm. The man writhed on the ground and then tried to stand up once more.

“Lance, stop!” Keith shrieked.

“He's trying to kill you!” Lance screamed back.

“... Keith...”

Shiro staggered forward two steps, as if he couldn’t manage his own body. Keith could glimpse in his face again a look of recognition, a glimmer of conscience.

“The arm-- it’s the arm...”

“Shiro…”

“Cut it!” shouted Shiro and fell to his knees again, shaking as if he couldn’t control himself. A green glow surrounded the prisoner and Keith saw that Pidge, with tears falling from her eyes, had captured Shiro with her bayard. The former leader writhed on the ground, repeating like crazy "cut it, cut it!"

“Keith!” Pidge cried out at him, a plea in her voice, her hands shaking as she held the bayard. “He's saying it's his arm!”

“But-- but I can’t...” Now the one shaking uncontrollably was him.

In the background, Allura and Hunk's cries crossed Lotor's warnings.

“This weird ship hit me with its artillery, Blue is not reacting, I cannot go back to the Castle in time to make the jump!” Allura sounded desperate.

"Paladins, get off the cruise, I can’t do anything while you're there!” Coran seemed on the verge of collapsing.

“The one who speaks to you is not your leader. If you listen to him, you will doom us all. Keith, you have to return right now,” said Lotor.

“Keith, you must listen to me! Bring me Lotor!” said the voice of the other Shiro.

 _'Keith, Keith, Keith_ '. His name echoed in his head, ready to explode. They had to leave, but he couldn’t do anything without grasping what was happening. Who was telling the truth? Paralyzed, as never before in his life, unable to make a decision, he simply trembled in the middle of the room.

A pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. He could see Lance's face in front of him, yelling at him, though he heard nothing. Like a radio, the volume of his voice went up.

“… to do it. This is the real one!”

“W-what?” Keith was trying to understand what he was saying.

“Slav said that Shiro handed them over. Look at this one, he’s been here for months, the witch is manipulating him... It's a trap! This is our Shiro! Cut off that arm and let's get out of here, NOW!”

“B-but...”

“Babe, look at me!” Lance grabbed Keith's helmet, forcing him to look at him “He'll be fine, but we have to hurry or we'll lose him again!”

Shiro was writhing on the floor, repeating a mantra of more and more unintelligible words. But his previous order had been clear... Keith looked at Lance’s eyes, seeing in them the reflection of the same terror he felt. Lance released his shoulders, with trembling hands, and took his rifle again.

“Right. If you can’t... then I’ll do it!”

As soon as he finished that phrase, the red bayard shone in his hands before the exorbitant eyes of both paladins. With their mouths open, they both saw how his form changed to that of a broad sword, heavy and sharp, decorated in red and made of the same bright material as the other Altean artifacts. Lance lifted it with some effort in his trembling hand and bit his lip. His anguished eyes pointed to Shiro.

No. Keith wouldn’t allow it. Shiro had asked _him_ , and he wouldn’t fail him. He wouldn’t make Lance carry that weight.

Putting his hands on Lance's, he took the sword from them. The bayard kept its shape and Keith, in a quick movement, took the two steps that separated him from Shiro and, resisting the urge to close his eyes, sharply lowered the blade on the metal arm of their leader.

His shriek pierced the ears of the three teens. Pidge covered her ears uselessly, terrified, but then ran to him with her face wet, kneeling by his side. There was no blood, but the nerve connections of the prosthetic were broken beyond repair. Shiro was wriggling, but his wet eyes no longer moved as if he couldn’t focus them. He was breathing agitated, but he was not chocking anymore. However, he was suffering. They had to get him out of there.

Ignoring his own panic, moving by pure instinct at this point, Keith grabbed Pidge's shoulder and made his own muffled voice come out from somewhere.

“We have to go. We need that information, Pidge. Please…”

The girl looked at him for a moment, then nodded and ran back toward the matrix of the room at full speed. Keith had no doubt at that moment who was the bravest of the two. He turned to Lance, who was also looking at him with bright eyes, extending a hand to him as if he wanted to touch him. But he pulled back, clenching his fingers into a fist.

“Well done, Keith. We’ll take him with us. Go to the exit, I'll check if there's any other prisoner here. We have to--”

“That was a poor choice, Keith. This is not how I taught you...”

Shiro's voice rang again in the communicators. The boys noticed that they no longer heard Allura, Coran or Hunk.

“You only had to bring me Lotor, and none of this would have happened.”

A rumble was heard on the deck. The paladins looked at each other in fright. Reinforcements had arrived and, apparently, were attacking the cruiser. Or maybe not the cruise, but the Green Lion, with the prisoners on board...

They moved as fast as they could. Lance found another prisoner in the other operation table. Using his new sword, he cut the restrictions and took her with him. Pidge extracted the information she could and used the extension of her bayard to nail it to the branch they had descended on, as a grappling hook. The bayard resisted the weight of five people (the three paladins and the two rescued), managing to ascend to the upper floor once more. Pidge had the quintessence jar with her, too.

All the prisoners except the tallest one had climbed to the Lion.

“They’re attacking us! I told them to stay in the Lion, the sentries are about to break the entrance,” said the prisoner, pointing to the dented door they had closed.

“Come on, we're getting the hell outta here!” Lance told him, passing him the unconscious prisoner on his back. The alien signaled for them to hand him Shiro too, taking them both effortlessly on his shoulders and climbing up the branches that would take them back to the Green Lion. The paladins followed him.

Inside the Lion, Keith was surprised to see the faces of all the rescued. He had almost forgotten that Lance had taken them out of the cells. Among all of them, Slav got up and approached tripping over his short legs.

“Shiro! I knew that in this reality they could find us, but I couldn’t foresee this,” he whined, appalled at the anomaly in his calculations.

“Hold on!” Pidge shouted at all of them, and they took flight immediately, being finally able to appreciate the panorama that opened before them.

An entire Galra fleet approached in the distance, as large as that of the battle of Naxzela. The cruiser in the center, huge and imposing, had to be Zarkon himself. The prisoners held their breath in horror, but Pidge was searching for Hunk and Allura.

They were engaged in battle with an unusual ship. Its entire structure shone abnormally and its speed was far superior to what they remembered from previous battles. Each time it loaded the cannon, the Yellow Lion rushed to take the Blue Lion out of the way. It seemed paralyzed.

“It's Lotor's ship!” Pidge exclaimed.

“It must be the twin. That's the one the generals--” Keith fell silent in the middle of the sentence. If Lotor told the truth, then his own mother could be inside it. It felt like a century since his conversation with the prince, when it had barely been half a day.

Pidge was targeting the twin Sincline, but Lance crossed one arm in front of her.

“Don’t! Don’t shoot.”

“What? Why not?” Pidge asked, confused. Lance looked nervously at Keith.

Communication with all other paladins was still broken, but they could weakly hear to the voice of Captain Olia in the rebel channel.

“... dissuade us with his words. We are waiting for instructions. The fleet is approaching...”

“We have to get back to the Castle. We need to get on our Lions and form Voltron,” said Lance.

“We have to rescue Hunk and Allura first! If the fleet surrounds them...” Pidge calculated the trajectory of the enemies and noticed that they were within minutes of arriving.

It was at that moment, when they didn’t know what to do, that Lotor's voice was heard in the comm, to their surprise.

“Paladins, the witch intervened all communications from the Castle, I speak to you from my Sincline. The bridge is offline, but you have to return immediately. We have to leave at once.”

A pause, Lotor was listening to the other lines.

“... Allura is hurt. Help the Yellow Lion to bring her back.”

“We can’t jump without her, we’ll have to form Voltron, Lance and me need to...” Keith managed to say.

“No. Just come back and we'll depart. We will jump,” said Lotor, and the communication was cut once more.

The paladins looked at each other and Pidge put direct march towards Allura. They had barely a minute to free her from the harassment of the twin Sincline, while the Galra fleet shots were already beginning to hit in their direction. Using the branch cannon again, Pidge wrapped the Blue Lion and dragged it.

“Good idea, Pidgey!” gushed Lance. Keith had crouched down next to Shiro, surrounded by the other prisoners. He breathed with difficulty, pale and sweaty. They needed to attend him immediately.

Hunk used the Yellow Lion to protect them from gunfire. However, the Sincline suddenly stopped firing and headed towards unknown direction, disappearing. At the same time, the Castleship moved its artillery and, lowering the shields, fired directly at the Galra laboratory.

All aboard the Green Lion saw the cruise explode, the light blinding them momentarily. Some of the prisoners howled of joy, but others only covered their faces. Pidge was still dragging the Blue Lion, with Hunk's help. They had to enter through the main hangar instead of the individual hangar of each Lion.

“Paladins, stay inside the lions! We’re entering a wormhole, it's dangerous to leave!” warned Coran's voice through the Castle's internal system.

Everything seemed to vibrate and darken for a moment. Used to do this from the bridge, the paladins had never seen how the rest of the Castle reacted when using the teludav. The vibrations were too strong, and they wondered if it was because it had worked or they were just being shot. For a couple of minutes, everyone held their breath, expectant.

Until the voice of Coran announced:

“We ... we made it. Paladins, report to the bridge... help the princess!”

* * *

  
Several surprises awaited them on the bridge. First of all, when they entered, they saw Coran trying to take care of Lotor, who had passed out in the middle of the room, in the position that Allura normally occupied.

“Princess!” exclaimed the Altean, while Allura walked towards him, held by Hunk and Lance. She had received a powerful shot from the twin Sincline and had momentarily lost consciousness within her Lion. Somehow, she had managed to recover enough not to lose control of Blue and get rid of all the ships from the cruiser, defending the Green Lion until the end. But her gaze now was focused and worried.

“How was it possible? What happened?” Allura asked.

“It was ... it was Prince Lotor. As soon as he occupied the central control, Altean marks appeared on his face and we were able to move. Somehow, he managed to activate the wormhole, but...” Coran looked at him guiltily. Lotor seemed asleep, sprawled on the floor.

“What about Shiro and the other Shiro ?!” Hunk exclaimed, pointing to the former leader, in the arms of the huge prisoner who had carried him to and from the Green Lion.

“Oh, for the ancestors, it was true then...” Coran ran back to the communication panel. “Captain, we're back in Sector Four, report your situation!”

“We engaged in battle with a Galra fleet, points five, nine, twelve.” The Captain gave a small sigh. “We were deceived! The black paladin spoke to us, ordering us to maintain position. The Galra fleet disbanded and we were relieved, but then we were surrounded by the right flank.”

“Voltron will be there soon!” Allura exclaimed, barely holding herself up.

“No, princess,” Olia answered, “it was a skirmish, but we survived. As soon as the Castle returned to this orbit, the Galra forces withdrew. We don’t know why, but the troops... the troops are restless. What happened to the black paladin?”

Everyone on the bridge looked at Shiro, still unconscious.

“Captain, as soon as we can clarify the situation, we will assemble. For now, we apologize. The man who spoke to you was not our paladin... he’s here. We just rescued him from a Galra prison and we ignore what state he is in, he remains unconscious. He could not be the one who spoke to you.”

The captain was silent for a moment, but then shouted:

“Matt?! Hey, come back here...! Uhm...” A cough. “I think Matt is heading towards the Castleship, unauthorized. Sorry.”

“No problem, Captain. Please inform us if there were any casualties and any other abnormal... abnormal activity...” said Allura. As soon as the communication was cut, Allura fell to her knees and the bridge went into chaos again.

* * *

  
The princess spent an hour in a healing pod, for Coran judged that her condition was due more to exhaustion than the blow itself. Lotor was intact: he simply seemed to have been drained of all energy, so they didn’t put him in the pods, they just let him sleep. But Shiro required special attention. Before putting him into a pod and with the help of Hunk, Slav and Matt, who arrived at the Castle in just a few minutes, Coran did his best to remove the remnants of the Galra technology from his battered arm. It was a long, difficult operation with uncertain outcome, but apparently the clean cut that Keith had made had deactivated most of the druid’s complex system. What they had to achieve now was for his nerves to heal, fearing that the pain would be identical to if he had lost his human arm. The fine work of the sorcerers was too advanced, but they didn’t give up. While they worked, Hunk wiped a single tear from his eyes every ten minutes or so, and Matt didn’t stop caressing Shiro's forehead every time he thought the others didn’t see him.

The bridge was a disaster that required attention. While Pidge tried to analyze and organize the enormous amount of information they had obtained from the cruise, Keith had to fight the temptation to drop everything to accompany Shiro. In his role as black paladin, and in the absence of Coran and the princess, he had to attend the multiple calls from the allies, check the positions of the enemy, request changes in the troops and all that bureaucracy he hated with all his heart. The only thing that sustained him those anguished and long hours while they were operating Shiro and he couldn’t go visit him was the permanent presence of Lance by his side. The red paladin, as exhausted and worried as he was, didn’t leave his post until Coran entered the bridge again accompanied by Hunk and Matt.

“The princess woke up and will come soon. I told her to take it easy, but...” poor Coran sighed.

“And Shiro? How is he?” Keith asked.

“In the pod. He’ll have to be in it through one entire movement at least, maybe more. We will see how he evolves, but for now... he is safe,” said Coran, sitting exhausted at his station.

“I have to go back to the rebel command, there's too much to do,” Matt said, in a tone that indicated that it was the last thing he wanted, “but I want you to promise me that you’ll call me when he’s ready to leave the pod. I want-- I just want to be here when he wakes up.”

Keith could see in Matt the same anguish he felt. He remembered Matt at the Garrison: a precocious officer, named as such before he came of age, always smiling by Shiro's side. How different they all were, after going through this war... but Matt had had it even worse. Matt had also been a prisoner of the Galra. Who could blame him for worrying? No one could refuse his request.

“Sure. We'll let you know, don’t worry," Keith assured, trying to smile. He could not, but Matt did: he gave him an exhausted smile, grateful.

“Thank you. Another favor, boss... send Pidge to bed, will ya? She's falling asleep in her seat,” said the older brother, worried. Keith looked at Pidge and remembered that she hadn’t slept the night before. The girl sat up sharply in her chair.

“Tche, Matt, there’s a lot to do. Sleeping is for losers anyway,” his sister answered, trying to look less tired.

“No, don’t give me that. I know you're doing something important, but I'll help you once I'm back on the base. We'll have everything done for tomorrow, but you have to sleep. And... today you had a very rough time,” said Matt, approaching her and caressing her hair affectionately. Pidge pouted and hugged his brother's waist, hiding her face. Matt reached down to hug her tightly.

Pidge was very brave that day and had to witness the rawness of that laboratory and how Keith cut Shiro’s arm himself as she held him with her own bayard. If that wasn’t traumatic... Keith looked away from the Holt siblings to observe Lance, who was watching the scene with bright eyes as well. His heart ached. He really wanted to imitate Matt and give Lance a hug, it didn’t even matter that they were on the bridge... but he was the black paladin. He had orders to give. If he succumbed to a temptation like that now, he wasn’t going to recover. He couldn’t afford it at that moment.

“Matt’s right, Pidge. Now that Allura is coming, you and Coran should go to sleep,” Keith said, noting that he was unconsciously trying to imitate Shiro’s commanding tone.

“Me?! Not at all..." Coran jumped up from his seat and approached the stellar chart with his hands behind his back, proudly.

“No, Coran. Today you worked like never before. Now that Allura is coming to the bridge we can take care of ourselves. We need you healthy if there's another emergency,” Lance said, putting his hands on his waist.

The discussion of who would sleep and who would remain on duty lasted a while, but Coran agreed to go and check on the prisoners first, accommodated before by Lance, and retire to rest "a couple of vargas at most". Pidge also agreed, after Matt departed, and that left Keith, Hunk and Lance alone on the bridge.

“Okay, guys, I think you two--” Keith managed to say, but Hunk interrupted him.

“Ah-ah. Forget it, Keith. In fact, the one who is leaving now is you,” said the yellow paladin, taking Pidge's station to see what he could do.

“What? No, I'm not that tired, compared to you...” Keith argued.

“Keith. It's not just about being tired.” Hunk looked up, his expression stern. It was the face he put when he was serious and everyone had learned to fear it. “It's about the experience. Sure, you can stay here until you drop dead, but we're going to have to talk about what happened today sooner or later.”

Keith was silent. He wasn’t sure what he could say about what had happened. He could only think about the disgusting feeling of the sword in his hands, piercing the metal... he felt nauseous, but held on. Affectionate hands rested on his shoulders, and he met Lance's eyes once more.

“Leave it to us. I know you want to go see him,” said the boy, smiling softly. His eyes were red and his face was too pale.

“Yeah, relax. We'll be here for a while, as soon as things calm down we'll hit the hay too,” Hunk assured him. “And, Keith...”

The yellow paladin turned in his seat, the armor that none of them had taken off creaking. He was smiling affably towards his leader.

“Thanks for saving Shiro. You did so well. The cut was perfect, but we know it had to be horrible. I don’t know if I could’ve done it, even though it had to be done... Really. Thank you for being so brave.”

Keith felt a knot tighten in his throat and looked down. Lance's hands didn't move from his shoulders, so the red paladin was feeling him tremble, surely. When Hunk, sympathetic, turned back to look at his screen, Lance brought one of his hands to Keith's face, gently moving his thumb over his cheek.

“Go. We'll take care of this.”

The boy released him and returned to stand in front of the screens, arms crossed. If Keith hadn’t been about to cry, he would have refused, but he had to flee that room and his friends were giving him the chance. He walked at a normal pace towards the exit, but as soon as he was outside the bridge, he started running towards the medbay.

He darted through the corridors feeling the edges of his eyes moisten with the cold air in his rush, slipping on the corners, desperate. When he reached the door, he paused a moment to breathe. With fear, he opened it.

The room was barely illuminated by the glow of the only pod in use at the time. Shiro floated in it, his long hair framing his gaunt face, with his beard, deep circles and wrinkles that Keith couldn’t remember from before. He didn’t seem to suffer, at least. His body was in a state of complete relaxation, but Keith's eyes descended from his face straight to his shoulder, abruptly ending in a covered stump.

His legs were shaking, so he sat in front of the pod and hugged his knees. He knew he had done the right thing, but it was like a nightmare come true. He wished with all his heart that the sacrifice was worth it, because the sensation of cutting Shiro was an echo that resounded again and again in his own hands, making him sick.

A sob escaped from his upset stomach. He didn’t want to look anymore, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the place where he himself had hurt that man who was a friend and a true brother. The person he cared the most in this life...

Lance’s figure interrupted his thoughts at that moment, as if marking his presence, making his heart pound. He realized that he wished he was there with him, but at the same time not. He was tired of showing only the worst of him, like these tears that fell without control from his eyes and all his past anxieties, burdens that Lance didn’t have to take, but he did, he always accepted them. Maybe now that Shiro was back he could show him something better. Maybe they could smile together. Maybe Keith could comfort him, for a change.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, but his numb legs told him it was long enough. He got up feeling the fatigue pierce him to his bones. Like a ghost, he walked slowly through the corridors of the Castleship, without meeting anyone, feeling lonely. He was so used to solitude, why was he looking for company now?

His mind wandered to the observation deck, where so many things had happened in such a short time span. His chest felt cold and empty after crying, in silent peace, but his heartbeat quickened a little as he directed his tired steps towards the deck, with the small hope that what had happened before would happen again. Opening the door and finding the back he longed for, waiting for him...

Not this time. When he entered the observation deck, the room was freezing and empty. Despite crying so much, Keith felt a stitch in his throat again. But everything was fine, he told himself. Lance was on the bridge or in his room, probably, and he would see him in a few more hours. Yeah, maybe he was in bed, resting already. No big deal. He’d be fine.

He stayed a few minutes in the room, as if waiting for a miracle, but then his cold feet directed him even more slowly than before to the bedrooms. His footsteps, crawling, echoed through the corridors and Keith really wanted to meet someone. 

Maybe not 'some'one, to be honest…

He was going to do it. He was going to knock on Lance's door, he decided. He had done it that morning, which seemed to have been centuries ago, he could do it again. But when he reached the corner, he glanced down the corridor to his own door and his heart seemed to catch fire.

In front of Keith's door, the figure of Lance was dozing, sitting on the floor with his arms on his knees and his face hidden between them. Keith didn’t know what kept him stuck to the ground at that moment, whether it was joy or surprise, but he felt his mouth curl into what had to be a smile, while his eyes stung again. Cautiously, he got close to the boy, while his head threatened to fall to the side, so sleepy that he didn’t hear him approach. No doubt, Lance had a particular talent for falling asleep anywhere, Keith thought fondly, crouching in front of him.

“Hey. Hey, Lance," he whispered, carefully running two fingers through his brown hair.

The boy lazily opened his eyes, blinking towards Keith, and flinched.

“Ah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry... uh, I was..." Lance stood up so suddenly that he almost made Keith fall back. Blushing, he offered a hand to help him stand up. Keith took it, and didn’t let go. Lance tightened his fingers around his palm.

“Sorry if I'm bothering you. I came in case you wanted to--" the boy began to explain, but Keith only opened his door and entered, pulling him from the hand he still held. When the door closed behind them, Keith turned to face Lance still not letting go of his hand but, slowly, he lifted it between them, intertwining their fingers. They looked at each other with intense eyes, their breathing shallower. Looking for words to say, Lance half-opened his mouth, but Keith used his free hand to touch that tired face, standing up a bit on tiptoe to reach the height of the red paladin and finally _, finally thank the cosmos,_ kiss him again.

His chapped lips ached under the sudden, wet friction. Their hands came loose and Lance surrounded him with his arms, squeezing him too tightly, while Keith held him by the arms, digging his fingers into his paladin armor, which both of them still wore. The metal crash was a nuisance that Keith noticed in the heat of the kiss, almost as if someone was opening the door, like an unwanted guest.

They separated breathing harshly, both with their faces flushed.

“I know how bad this is going to sound, but I really, REALLY want to take off this armor,” Lance muttered, blushing to the root of his hair.

For all answer, Keith proceeded to disassemble the arms of his, throwing them to the floor, while Lance watched him with his mouth open.

“You… you’re really gonna...” Lance could barely speak while Keith was quickly removing his chestplate, his boots, until he was only in the tight black suit the paladins wore underneath. Normally, he’d have taken that away too, but he had reached the limit of his courage. He looked at Lance.

“I couldn’t stand it anymore, either. I just want...” he sighed. He wanted several things, but with Lance by his side already, suddenly he just wanted  _to sleep_. Fatigue made him dizzy; he didn’t remember ever being so exhausted. That had been undoubtedly the hardest day of his life, and that said a lot. It felt like the breakfast conversation with Hunk and Pidge, the fight with Lotor and Lance's room had happened only in a dream. But the kiss was absolute proof that what had happened between them was the truest thing they experienced that crazy day.

Lance checked him from head to toe, in silence. His exhausted eyes then turned to his own arms, and he began undoing the joints. He copied Keith, who watched as if he were seeing something forbidden, feeling himself blush and doubt, the red paladin throwing all the pieces to the floor until he was barefoot, wearing only the black flight suit too. For a moment, they both only looked at each other, as if wondering what was next, but then Lance took Keith's hand and guided him gently to his own bed, lifting the blankets and gesturing for him to lie down.

The boy obeyed, his shivers now mixed with other emotions. His heart was beating fast, and Lance crawled under the covers beside him, always looking into his eyes. He ran a soft finger over his swollen eyelids, but made no comment about them. On the contrary, he only asked:

“Do you want to talk now?”

Keith shook his head, hiding his face a little.

“Tomorrow?” Lance asked.

Keith hesitated for a moment, but nodded.

“Tomorrow then,” said Lance, getting closer to Keith. He slid up a little higher, putting one arm under the pillow and Keith's head, crossing his other arm around his waist and pulling softly. Keith moved closer, so close that he could touch Lance's neck with his nose.

“Good night ba-- uh. Uhm, rest well,” Lance's soft voice was lost in Keith's disheveled hair, and being so close the boy could feel him swallowing, nervous. The relief he felt at that moment was indescribable. He had never experienced anything like this and, before, he probably wouldn’t have been able to tolerate it, but now his body seemed to _purr_  in comfort, while a thumb caressed his waist tenderly and rhythmically. His own hand came up between their chests, his knuckles leaning against Lance, making the boy flinch slightly, but the accelerated beat of his heart was perceptible and appeasing. His other hand rested somewhere over his partner's arm. Their legs moved smoothly, settling in a heavy and warm entanglement.

Keith closed his eyes, sighing in relief, seeing the images of the day crisscrossing before him, but then he remembered something else. In the infernal cruise, the moment when he had been paralyzed by confusion, Lance had taken him by the shoulders to make him snap out of it and... undoubtedly called him "babe". He was sure he hadn’t imagined it... the darkness that enveloped him was warmer than ever, while the sounds went slowly down.

 _Tomorrow_. They would talk about everything tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're doing pet names already, eh Lance?? Weird galra moves and Kuron's intentions will be clarified next chapter. I added the altean broadsword because it would fit the narrative. Also added Krolia's name in the only mention it has for now, in chapter 2. You can appreciate I'm back on my bullshit with all my might! lol.  
> My fic [One Kiss for Each Piece](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101329/chapters/32490201) is linked to this moment of the story, it covers what will happen to Shiro and Matt, another OTP of mine. Check it if you'd like, there's no spoilers there about the rest of this tangled mess lol.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, especially to those still subscribed, I'm updating soon this time, I promise! Check my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/silverineontherun) for other updates and a few ficlets here and there.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Fluff first, plot later this time! Enjoy :)

A violent shift brought Lance back from his deep sleep. As soon as he noticed it, he tried to turn on his brain, but the incredible heat all over his body, heavily lying on a warm bed, made it difficult to wake up, even more so than usual. He was about to ignore it to fall asleep again, when sudden cold in his neck made him lazily crack one eye open and scan his limited range of vision, until he found the source. A nose that had detached from his collarbone, followed by two eyes that looked at him in embarrassed stupor, were only a few inches away...

Lance sat up with too much impulse, disheveled and with his heart beating fast. He was so dozy that it had taken him too long to remember that he wasn’t in his bed, nor alone. Beside him, Keith had woken up first and was stuck to the wall, as shocked as he was, his hair messy and with the lines of Lance's suit marked on his cheek. Stunned by that impossible vision, Lance rubbed his own face, trying to wake up completely, watching as the other boy attempted to scoot down into the blankets to hide, covering up to his nose.

“H-hey. Good morning," said Lance, his voice low from sleeping, unable to suppress a yawn.

“... morning.” Keith's voice could barely be heard from under the covers. Only his eyes were visible, in between his bangs.

Lance looked at him still drowsy and felt his face form a smile half affectionate, half exasperated.

“You know, I don’t think you mean it, but what you're doing is kinda cute. You look like an angry cat peeking out from under a blanket.”

For all answer, Keith hid his entire face. Only the tip of his disheveled head was out, like a black palm tree, which made Lance laugh. He extended an arm to turn the clock that all the paladins had on their night stands, trying to figure out if the Castle had started its day cycle or not. He realized that it did.

“Wow, we slept almost seven hours and nobody has come to wake us up yet. I guess that’s good news,” he said, stretching lazily, but then he looked at the speck of hair that was Keith and made a face. Turning to his partner, he sat up straighter and with his hand ruffled the other boy's hair, messing it even more.

“C’mon, get out of there. Don’t think you’re the only one feeling shy here.”

“... Doesn’t look like it,” Keith muttered, barely audible.

“Then maybe you have to take a better look,” Lance replied, feeling his cheeks flushed. Just in case, he pinched his hand. The stitch made his stomach jump.

It just seemed impossible that he, Lance McClain, was waking up in Keith Kogane's bed. Not only that, but he had come voluntarily and, even more surprisingly, hadn’t woken up with a knife at his throat. If his Garrison self knew about this... well, maybe it would have saved him a couple of years of confusion and anguish. But if those miserable years had brought him to this moment, they had been worth it anyway, he thought, trying to put his ideas in order, because they had a lot to talk about. Clearing his throat, Lance said in a pragmatic tone:

“Look, I know all of this is weird, but we should talk about everything that has happened. How about we do the ‘facts first, assumptions later’ thing again?”

Just like that day at the observation deck, it might be good to shred the events one by one, and although Lance really needed to talk about _them_ , too many things required their immediate attention, and he tried to be mature and responsible for once.

There was a moment of silence until, suddenly, Keith pulled back the blankets that covered him, sitting very stiff. Lance could almost see the gears in his head reactivating, when the boy made an attempt to step over Lance, but he grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Lance asked.

“I have to go... I need to know how Shiro is doing,” Keith replied, checking if there were any pending calls on his communicator. Their tiny devices rested on the night stand, silent and without flickering lights of alarm. Involuntarily, Lance squeezed Keith's wrist a little more, feeling how his intentions of staying on duty crashed inside his head. In a dry voice, he said:

“They haven’t called us, nothing has happened. It hasn’t even been half the time Shiro has to be in the pod, there's nothing you can do for now. If you let them know you're awake, they'll call you to the bridge right away.” Keith stared at him and Lance felt himself blushing, but he was determined. “I'm sorry, but I'd like for us to… talk.”

In other times, Keith would have probably slapped his hand, passed over him (trampling him in the process) and left without a word, but if he needed any prove to convince himself of how much their relationship had changed, there he had it: Keith relaxed his shoulders a little and sat down on the bed next to him, his back resting on the wall.

Lance's flush increased as he let go, for Keith was an unlikely sight under the soft Altean lights of the room. He was pale, haggard and disheveled, he looked restless and fearful, but his posture was defiant. The lines of the flight suit in which they had both fallen asleep looked obscenely well on him, Lance thought, swallowing hard. He made an effort not to get distracted by the chaotic ideas that discovery was creating, while Keith watched him expectantly. He had to say something.

“Uhm. Okay then, first... How do you feel?” he asked. Keith raised an eyebrow and Lance blushed even more, but he defended himself. "What? I want to hear it from you.”

Keith seemed about to say "terrible", but he regretted it halfway. In an unexpected gesture, the boy scanned his surroundings with his tired eyes and his lips pursed, while he seemed to consider another answer.

Adorable. Too adorable. Lance was fascinated.

"Well... not as bad as I thought, I guess," Keith finally answered. Lance smiled slightly and now it was Keith's turn to blush. Dodging his eyes, he asked:

“How about you? How do you feel?”

“Uh, me?” Lance was baffled. He honestly didn’t expect that question. Apparently, he wasn’t used to have Keith worrying about him yet. He crossed his arms, grimacing as he chose what to say, scratching his chin.

“Well, honestly? I feel like I was hit by a truck yesterday. Which isn’t so bad, considering all that could hit you in space, I suppose...”

Keith let out a snort and Lance smiled at him fondly, but then he began to move his fingers nervously. He peeked at the other boy again and said:

“Well... I know a lot of things happened yesterday that deserve our full attention, but, uh... Before that, I wanted— I-I think we have to— uh, damn, this is hard...”

It was difficult because he didn’t know where to start. What did he have to explain first? The kiss in his room? Or what had happened on the Black Lion weeks ago? Or, even further back, apologize for their years at the Garrison and try to justify his childish attitude in a pathetic, unrecognized crush... Lance was now sure of what he felt, but not on how to say it. What if Keith escaped, locked himself up, hid, as he used to do when something surpassed him? That perspective was even more terrifying than rejection.

He looked at the source of his worries, judging his possibilities. Keith's nervousness was palpable, his jaw tensing conspicuously, but at that moment the boy's hand was tucking a strand of black hair behind his ear as he opened his mouth to speak, in a shy attitude that Lance had never seen before.

“Hey, Lance. Yesterday, in the lab...” he said, barely moving his lips.

“Y-yeah?” Lance asked, intrigued.

“When the thing with—” Keith swallowed “— Shiro, happened. I froze and you talked to me to make me react.”

“Oh. Right... I'm sorry, I think I was too rough,” Lance apologized, feeling guilty. He hated that his nervous personality made him so unreliable.

“N-no, that was very good ... I appreciate it,” Keith muttered, and Lance felt his chest swelling. “But there’s something else. When you talked to me, I heard you say... uhm...”

Keith's ears were red and Lance felt himself deflate a little. Say _what_? He barely remembered the episode as a mass confusion of shouts and commands, but Keith was getting more and more red. What the hell had he said? What did he let slip? What had he ruined...?

“I'm sure I heard you call me... uhm ... _babe_. I mean, I think that I heard that and— uh...”

Oh. OH. Lance slapped his forehead with his two hands as he felt boiling water rising to his face. SERIOUSLY, LANCE MCCLAIN? Keith, seeing his reaction, continued to stammer, also flushed.

“W-well, I just wanted to know if I-I imagined it or— maybe I did and I just said something very—"

“Haha, no, no. You didn’t imagine it. Oh god…”

Lance didn’t really recall, but he didn’t doubt for a second that it was true, because what he _did_ remember was that he had been about to say it again last night. He had stopped just in time, but as he looked at Keith, who fell asleep immediately in his arms, feeling his soft breath on his neck, Lance had thought about how nice it would be to say it freely. A pet name, like the ones that were used within his family, that's why he had almost...

Except it wasn’t ALMOST. Apparently, adrenaline made him confuse reality with fiction and he had betrayed himself. It was SUCH a newbie mistake to use a pet name on someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend yet. What was he? Twelve or something?... In fact, he wasn’t sure if even his five-year-old nephews would do such a thing.

Mortified, struggling with the urge to hide under the bed, Lance found Keith's eyes fixed on him, surprised. The only thing that made him speak was the certainty that Keith felt more embarrassed than him, given the expression he wore.

“Uh, well. I have no excuse. It just slipped, because... I mean, that's what couples do, right? And I guess, in the heat of the moment—"

“Couples...?” Keith seemed bewildered and Lance felt his soul dropping to his feet. That face could only mean one thing: the boy hadn’t even considered the possibility, and he had ridiculed himself like a brat in love. It was strange how now the words seemed to crawl miserably out of the mouth.

“Ha, yeah, right? I'm sorry. I-I didn’t want— It won’t happen again,” he assured, looking down.

“Won’t… happen again…” now Keith sounded confused and Lance squinted at him, hurt. But his distrust melted when he saw that the boy's face showed an expression of bewildered disappointment. Those eyes seemed to be trying to unravel a riddle that anguished him. What the hell was going through that head?

Lance swallowed, dizzy, but then remembered that he was dealing with Keith Kogane, the man who still didn’t understand that after Vol, he had to say Tron... Maybe it was just one of his ‘episodes’? He shook his head imperceptibly, clinging to that hope to give himself courage.

“I meant that it won’t happen again if you don’t want to. Like, I know we're not... but, well, you must know already, right? That I..." He cleared his throat again, but he didn’t know how to continue.

Why couldn’t he finish any sentence? Normally he talked nonstop, even while flirting with random creatures in public. But now, in the privacy of a room with the person he really liked, he wasn’t able to articulate a single decent sentence. He inhaled sharply and exhaled, looking Keith right to his eyes. _Courage, Lancey. Courage. Now or never._

“You must know, right? The reason why I came here last night. The reason why I always follow and bother you, why I go to the upper deck to see if I can find you and why I always provoke you like a dumbass. The same reason why yesterday I went to look for you in that lab, and why I let that... word slip.” Lance didn’t feel capable of repeating it, but at least he had been able to deliver part of the message.

Keith looked down, crossing his arms or rather hugging his own body, as if defending himself from something that frightened him. Lance feared for his own heart, but since he had started, he was going to take it to the bitter end. That was his typical way, with variable results.

“It's obvious, Keith. I know you know. No matter how badly you think of me, you know I’d never kiss someone I didn’t really... like...”

There. Bet made, and for highest possible. Lance felt his body tense in the battle between panic and hope. Because on one hand he could remember how the previous day Keith had returned the kiss, because the trusting and vulnerable way in which he had slept in his arms was not something that he would show to anyone else, he dared to expect, to wish for an answer, but on the other, fear told him that Keith would escape, run ... that he would go to see Shiro, to stay there, unreachable again.

Lance pressed his lips and looked down. Could he tolerate that result?

A pressure on his shoulder. The black hair that had given him so many headaches for years now tickled his chin, because a forehead had crashed against his shoulder as if the owner had collapsed on top of him.

“Keith?” Lance opened his arms, unsure of what to do.

“How can you?” Keith muttered, barely audible.

“What?”

“How can you say these things so easily?”

Lance didn’t know what to think. Body language said one thing and words another, until he felt fingers glide up his back causing him visible chills, rising to reach his shoulders, where they clung. He heard a murmur in his ear.

“... too.”

Interference or fireworks, or both at the same time, were going through Lance’s head. Swallowing hard, breathing raggedly, he asked in a whisper:

“You too what?”

Silence. Lance's mind was blank. He had never dared to imagine that he’d get that far, but there he was, with Keith in his arms, and he began to feel that he was reciprocated, at least to some degree, which was causing him a short circuit, because he was used to the opposite... he had a plan B for most failures and none for the triumphs, he discovered.

It was then when Keith lifted his head from his shoulder and pulled away from him a short distance, just enough to see his face. His eyes, clearly violet from so close, scanned his as if he wanted to read something in them. Lance couldn’t fathom what, after he had already exposed everything. Almost.

Keith's hands still rested on his shoulders when the boy leaned towards him and simply joined their lips. Breathless, unable to even blink, Lance let himself be kissed. It wasn’t the first time, but somehow that's how it felt: dazed, he wasn’t even able to close his eyes, just watching Keith’s long, dark lashes in front of him, thinking nonsense like that, if he died, that would be probably the last thing he would remember.

It was a peck more than a kiss, but when they separated they were both blushing. Keith opened his eyes and seemed to be struggling to keep his gaze up, lips pressed, saying nothing. That face was asking if he understood, and Lance decided it was enough, that he was not going to ask for more. Surrounding Keith with his arms, he squeezed him hard, letting out a nervous laugh, pressing his nose into the crook of his neck, closing his eyes. Keith answered the hug without pressing, his hands loosely resting around his waist, but even through the uncomfortable suits, Lance could feel his heart, beating just as fast as his.

This discovery made him swallow. What was next? His right hand was clutching the base of Keith's neck, and he could feel the zipper of the suit. Fuzzy ideas began to cross his mind. What would happen if he tried to pull it? Could he touch that back that kept him awake sometimes? What would happen if he simply let himself loose, if his hands roamed in the space between fabric and skin...?

“Thanks for yesterday. I don’t think I’d been able to do it if you hadn’t been there," Keith muttered suddenly and Lance felt himself thrown back into the harsh reality, pulled out of the trance by a bucket of cold water.

Right. Galra, the attack, Shiro, the sword... all that came back, against his will. Sighing, he separated from Keith and held his arms gently.

“You saved the day as always, nothing to be grateful for. It’s thanks to you we have Shiro back, Keith,” Lance said, watching with reluctance as Keith's eyes darkened.

“You shot him to defend me. And if it weren’t for that, maybe he wouldn’t have snapped out it... I should have done something…”

“Hey, we all did what we could. But you saved him, don’t doubt it,” reassured him Lance, wishing that Keith understood that he had done the right thing.

“Save him. I don’t know. I feel as if... I had betrayed him,” the boy mumbled, lowering his gaze. Lance's hands rubbed his arms effusively.

“Hey, don’t. It was an order from your leader, and thanks to that we brought him back. He’ll be fine, and I’m sure that the first thing he’s gonna say is how proud he is of you,” said Lance, suppressing any trace of bitterness that could appear in his voice. What he said was true, and he wasn’t going to allow his childish jealousy to show now. Keith looked up, but said nothing. It was evident that the episode was still repeating in his mind, for the way his fingers moved unconsciously. There would be no way to reassure him until Shiro himself didn’t wake up to calm him down, but Lance was going to try anyway. Remembering the episode, an idea occurred to him and he began to look around, looking for the novelty that could distract them.

“Well, I confess that watching you swinging that sword was pretty impressive too. Where…? Oh, oops.” Lance leaned toward the night stand and found that his bayard had fallen to the floor. He picked it up while Keith showed a contemptuous smile, more like his usual expression.

“What? We were in _such_ a hurry last night that we scattered everything around," Lance taunted, his eyebrows wiggling, all malice.

“Don’t say it like that,” Keith growled, lifting a hand to his eyes.

“Aw, what's up, honey? Are you going to deny our night now?” Lance said, in a teasing tone. It was so absurd, being able to say these things easily only when they were joking, but the confessions made him temporally immune to fear. It was worth being brutally hit by a pillow for testing Keith's levels of blushing, too.

“Ow! Ok, I get it, stop it!” cried Lance, covering his head in case of another wave. Given the black paladin’s monstrous strength, even pillows were potentially dangerous.

“Shut up and show the bayard already,” growled Keith, still red and leaving the pillow at his side.

“Ha! I knew that blades were the only way to your heart,” Lance said, winking and earning himself a cold stare. “I guess I can do it again...”

He took the bayard pointing to the other side, concentrating, while Keith watched the operation, eager. Immediately, the classic white light of Altean weapons shone and the heavy broadsword manifested itself again in his hands, forcing him to tighten his grip. Two prolonged whistles were heard at the same time and Lance smiled at the other boy.

“How is it, huh? Tell me that we aren’t made for each other after this,” Lance boasted, but this time, instead of blushing, Keith just rolled his eyes and continued to admire the sword. The excitement in his eyes was almost cute, so Lance handed it to him, with some effort, to let him check it from other angles.

“Too bad you have no idea what to do with it,” Keith retorted, mockingly. Lance frowned.

“Is that a challenge I hear, Mullet? Careful there. I may impress you.”

“Doubt it.”

"Ohh, you know perfectly well that's the best way to provoke me," Lance grumbled, even though he knew that Keith was right. He was the sharpshooter, his thing were rifles, not swords... To his surprise, Keith was smiling cunningly.

“If you stop calling me Mullet, I might consider letting you watch me train for ten minutes, so you can take a few notes,” he said in an uncharacteristic playful tone, and Lance felt the flames in the lower part of his abdomen arise again. Hearing that almost flirtatious provocation was too much for his fragile being. It almost felt like boyfriend banter. Almost…

“Just watch, instead of challenging me to spar? I don’t know if you're scared or just stingy," Lance answered, trying to keep the jesting tone, though his hand went around Keith's shoulder and his face moved closer to his cheek, where he gently nuzzled him. The boy tensed with the touch and only looked away, embarrassed. Lance rejoiced in that little, totally unfair victory.

“I'm ready for your lessons whenever you say, Samurai,” he whispered softly near his ear, savoring the shivers he provoked. The lack of defenses was emboldening him too much. Maybe he was abusing his luck, he thought, but Keith just nodded, running a hand under his nose in an ungraceful way.

Lance looked at the clock again. He knew they had to get moving, that they needed to see how Shiro, Allura and Lotor were doing, see what information they had been able to steal, the state of the prisoners, what they could say, and the status of the Galra fleets... but his body was nailed to the bed. It simply refused to put together enough resolution to set foot outside this protected, dreamlike space. Lance realized that he was afraid of losing this forever. Maybe it wasn’t going to happen again. Looking at Keith's neck, he thought about the thousands of questions he wanted to ask him, but he wouldn’t. At least not yet.

It was too early to ask what they were, what were they going do, if they were going to tell someone, but Lance couldn’t help wondering. Could they tell the team what was going on, if not even they had named it? Probably not. But at least he knew one thing, he thought, leaning his forehead against the little skin of the neck that was visible between Keith's dark hair, where the suit ended. He was definitively, irrevocably, inevitably in love with his ‘rival’. And in the middle of a war that could be a disadvantage, but he didn’t care about anything anymore. He wasn’t going to give up on this.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked in a whisper.

“Recharge, before going out into the real world,” Lance answered, with total honesty. He felt Keith exhale and then stay still for a few seconds, in silence. They both knew that the time had come to separate and Lance thought vaguely that it was just as uncomfortable as when they said good night outside their rooms.

Finally, Keith reached out of his corner, sliding around until he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to Lance, putting his feet on the ground and watching the mess for the first time. Lance could see his profile and red ears as he watched the remains of their armors scattered around his own room. There was something very suggestive in the pieces lying here and there. Giving himself a push, Keith finally got to his feet and began to collect his things. Lance was silent, watching, appreciating Keith's figure with growing admiration, covering himself with a blanket as a precaution, tempted to pinch himself again. In case something like that never happened again, he concentrated on recording the image in his head, but now Keith was gazing at him and Lance understood that it was time to leave.

“I’m going to the bathroom. See you on the bridge?” Keith asked, without looking at him anymore. Reality had seeped into the room, making them nervous again.

“S-Sure. See you on the bridge later,” Lance replied. Luckily, Keith nodded and only entered the bathroom of his room; as soon as the door closed behind him, Lance jumped up, hastily picking up the pieces of his own armor, loosely putting them on just as precaution. He opened the door and cautiously poked his head into the corridor. It was empty... he only had to turn around the corner until he reached his room, so, taking one last look at the messy bed, feeling his stomach clench, he ran to reach his own door. He didn’t meet anyone, luckily.

Once in his room, he removed the pieces of armor badly put on, finally freed himself from the tight flight suit (which he would never use again to sleep, because everything hurt), and locked himself in his own toilet. He knew that both he and Keith needed a moment alone after so many emotions, although, while looking down a bit ashamed of himself, he didn’t dare to wonder if they needed it for the same reason.

 

* * *

 

Lance headed to the kitchen, where he found Hunk, well rested too. They had said goodbye the night before once Allura had returned to the bridge to replace them and Hunk was going to take her something to eat now, to cheer her up. Something told them that everyone would spend the whole day at the bridge, so Lance also ate and considered whether he should also bring something to treat the rest.

“Has Keith showed around here?” he asked, casually. Hunk didn’t stop moving, but a slight smile appeared on his lips.

“Nope, I haven’t seen him yet. He's probably at the medbay.” He put a bag of what looked like cookies on the table, now more serious. “I also went to take a look when I got up. Shiro doesn’t look very good, to be honest.”

“Seriously?” Lance asked, worried.

“I mean, Coran says he’ll be okay, but... I don’t know, man, he looks so different. I'm a little scared of the moment when he wakes up,” Hunk confessed. Both boys dropped their gazes.

“I'm sure that's our Shiro, and that's what matters for now,” said Lance, trying to cheer them up, “after he wakes up we'll worry about the rest.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Anyways, take this,” Hunk threw the bag at him and Lance caught it, confused. His friend winked at him, mischievous. “For you, so you can score a few points with you-know-who. They are his favorites.”

Lance blushed, but returned the malicious smile.

“That's my Hunky, my man, the butter to my bread!”

“Dude, if you say that in front of Keith you're gonna lose points. I know I'm irresistible, but control yourself, Lance,” Hunk joked, ruffling his friend’s hair as they both walked towards the bridge, laughing.

However, the serious aura infected them as soon as they arrived. Allura and Pidge were already there.

“Hey, how are you, Allura?” Lance asked, worried. The Princess looked motivated and determined.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. How are you two?” she asked back.

“Everything a-ok. I brought you this," Hunk said, handing her what appeared to be a milkshake inside a small bottle. As always, this made the Princess smile, who thanked him effusively. Pidge also received food.

“Ugh, thanks Hunk. You won’t believe everything we have found. We're just waiting for everyone to come to show you," Pidge said, turning to her screen, where a familiar face stared back.

“Oh hey, Matt. You ok?” Lance asked over Pidge's shoulder. The boy looked haggard, but enthusiastic.

“Yup, at least for now,” replied the eldest Holt, smiling.

Lance smiled back, feeling a wave of empathy. Perhaps his infatuation for Keith was making him hypersensitive, but he was almost sure that Matt was one of the most affected by Shiro’s situation and that touched him. Maybe because now he had something to compare, but Lance felt fond of the man, remembering his expression when he arrived at the Castleship the night before, and after Shiro was already in the pod. You had to have a lot of courage to help operate someone you love enough to disobey your captain, he thought.

The door opened behind them and everyone saw the strange combination of people who crossed it: Keith, Coran and Lotor came together at a slow pace. The Galra prince had his usual proud expression, although he didn’t seem fully recovered. He looked drowsy, his eyes strangely drooping. But, to Lance's outrage, he was leaning on Keith's shoulder, no less.

Shocked, nobody said anything until they reached the center of the room. Allura swallowed and broke the tension.

“Hello, Lotor, how are you feeling?”

“Very well, Princess, thank you,” answered Lotor, letting go of Keith and adopting his usual proud posture, crossing his arms. Lance questioned Keith with his eyes, but was ignored. The boy looked a little pale... Had something happened? Allura was talking again and Lance had to make an effort to pay attention.

“Well, after the events of yesterday, it is clear that we have a lot to talk about. But I have to thank you first, Lotor, for getting us out of there. Coran explained to me that you took control of the bridge just by repeating what you have seen me do a few times... which is very admirable. My sincerest thanks,” said the Princess, blushing a little. Lance expected to see Lotor show one of his classic cynical smiles, but to his surprise, the Prince looked confusedly shy for a few seconds, as if he didn’t know whether to feel honored by the words or just embarrassed. Recovering, he said:

“It was nothing, Allura. It is fortunate that my ancestry has been put to good use, for once.”

“It was very brave of you. The Castle needs a lot of life force and you could have died in the attempt. I'm glad that nothing more serious happened," Allura acknowledged, smiling. Somehow, her distrust of the Galra prince seemed to have vanished. Lotor smiled half-edged, but then hardened his expression again.

“Dare I say that this dispels all doubts about my story? My Altean genes are the only reason I could take control of the bridge, even if for a short time," he said. Allura nodded.

“Pretty much confirmed,” Coran mused, touching his mustache. The Altean didn’t look relieved like Allura, but rather fearful.

“And I hope that it proves that my intentions are just as I have expressed them. I have no interest in harming you: my only interest is to stop my father. What you saw yesterday in Mebarak's lab is just a sample of what they are trying to achieve,” said Lotor.

“We’ll judge that on the way,” growled Lance, raising an eyebrow, but Allura shook her head.

“It's time for us to use what we have and do something with it. I believe that what we have witnessed is sufficient proof that we share the same interests, and therefore, we are counting on you to help us put an end to Zarkon. I will hear anything you have to say,” declared Allura. Lotor nodded once and put his hands behind his back, satisfied.

Lance had a bad feeling about it, but he didn’t dare to say anything. Although he understood that the team wanted to trust him, something in his way of acting still disturbed him. Because someone with good, transparent intentions doesn’t show his plans little by little, doesn’t crawl in the shadows...

“It would be good to know what was obtained from the lab, before we start planning,” said Lotor, looking at Pidge affably. The girl's face lit up.

“Yeah, I think the same,” she replied, enthusiastic. She had been waiting for hours to show them. “That lab had a lot of data. Unfortunately, some things were heavily encrypted and corrupted in the extraction, but we have rescued whatever we can, though it will still take a while to finish decoding everything.”

Projecting her screen on the center panel for all to see, Pidge began her explanation.

“Apparently, the exploitation of the rift is recent, some blueprints show that they were trying to widen it for some reason that is not clear. I don’t think they have done much yet. But the sample of that powerful quintessence that Keith found in the laboratory makes us suspect that they were looking to exploit it to produce more of that same formula. We don’t even have enough tools to analyze it.”

“The Empire gravitates around quintessence. I always knew that they would not give up such a rich source, and I wanted to get ahead of them,” Lotor intervened, looking at the data on the screen.

“Yeah, and they were going to use the twin of your ship, as you predicted. Also, they must have modified it, that attack on the Blue Lion yesterday was too powerful,” Pidge said. “However, we found it strange that such a delicate operation was so poorly guarded, and Matt discovered something interesting.”

“We still can’t confirm it,” Matt said, his face appearing on the big screen, along with a series of numbers that looked like military sequences, although they were unintelligible to Lance. “But the encryption of the information and the ship communications keys differ too much from the rest of Zarkon’s army, at least from what we have seen before.”

“New encryption AND codes?” Hunk asked, reading the characters with interest.

“Yep. And not only that... they were so restricted that even within the same virtual environment the codes don’t always work. Some files are set to be corrupted automatically after any attempt to open them,” explained Matt.

“In all the time we’ve been stealing information from the Galra, we never found such a self-destructive system. If we have learned something from them, is that they value organization and their data in an almost religious way,” said Pidge.

“That’s true. The Blade always has to struggle with security codes and systems, but I don’t remember ever losing pieces of info like that,” recalled Keith, crossing his arms.

“That can only mean one thing. The operation on the rift was secret, and it was not meant to reach my father's ears, am I correct?” asked Lotor, and Matt nodded, talking again.

“That's what we suspect. It makes sense, right? The strange behavior of the Galra fleets yesterday. The invasion of the system seemed genuine and at some point, we even engaged in battle, but then suddenly they are called back to cover the attack in Daibazaal. If it was a trap of Zarkon, why did it take them so long to get to the lab? And they even sent the majority of their fleet, why not divide it?”

“So, now we think that maybe someone convinced Zarkon to attack that unprotected border, to get _him_ away from there, not us. They didn’t even imagine that we’d go to Daibazaal, they expected us to fight Zarkon and distract him. A perfect disguise,” Pidge explained.

“Then who is behind this? Mebarak?” Allura asked, surprised and interested.

“No. Mebarak is just a puppet that clings to whoever can protect him and his experiments. There's only one who could have that influence," grunted Lotor, and everyone understood who he was referring to.

“The witch,” they said in unison. Haggar.

“My generals did not go to ask for Zarkon’s forgiveness, he put a price on their heads, I assume. So, they went to Haggar, and that explains why they took so long to show themselves. They sold my plan in exchange for her protection, and now they seek to exploit the rift on their own. Hah, my father is too old for this,” the prince smiled bitterly, as if the conflict delighted him.

“But why does the witch want quintessence, if not to give it to Zarkon?” asked Coran, who seemed terrified of the possibilities.

“Maybe she finally developed some ambition, after ten thousand years. Perhaps she realized that my father's sanity hangs from a thread and she wanted to anticipate his fall, but the reason does not matter. Thanks to us, the plan has been exposed, and that means that it is in danger. We have to find a way to secure the rift, or else, my father will become stronger than ever,” declared Lotor.

“I think that might be true. Some things we found in that lab are... terrifying. We haven’t been able to decipher even ten percent of what was there, but some uses they gave to quintessence are...” Pidge swallowed. Dubitatively, she extended her hand to the screen and projected something else: a file. The Galra characters gleamed on the screen and Lotor frowned.

“Operation Kuron?” he whispered. Pidge nodded and touched something else. A lot of images appeared and the whole team gasped. Information and images of Shiro were on the screen.

“What’s this?!” Keith asked, stepping forward, fists clenched.

“I haven’t dared to— I haven’t checked it all, yet,” Pidge confessed, closing her eyes.

“It’s data of the final stage of a project in which they have been working for a very long time. And I mean it, some files are dated... hundreds of years ago,” Matt explained, his voice weak, showing lots of files being scanned. “Apparently, their goal is to create convincing, autonomous copies of certain key subjects, replacing the real ones with a version that is under their control. However, for this they need huge amounts of quintessence that they don’t have, because most of their stock is destined to keep Zarkon alive. They have a problem of excessive demand.”

“Then, the Shiro who lived here, the one who spoke to the rebel troops...” Lance didn’t know how to finish the sentence, while Allura covered her mouth in utter horror.

“Yes. What he himself suspected was true, if he was honest. It was an exact copy of Shiro, who apparently retained his memories to some point, but now is under the druid’s control, or whoever is in charge,” confirmed Matt, closing his eyes as if the realization hurt him deeply. There was a horrified silence that extended for several seconds.

“Oh wow... Pidge, you were right. Do you remember that when Shiro disappeared, you said that if even they didn’t know they were spies, they would be perfect agents?” Hunk remembered, pale. Pidge ran a hand down her own face.

“I think I don’t like being always right anymore, Hunk,” she murmured.

“This... this is... a crime! A... a...!” Coran couldn’t contain his indignation nor find enough words to express his horror. The aberration was too big.

“And now that... _clone_... is in their hands. And, for some reason, he demanded that we hand you over to him,” Allura looked hurt and confused, addressing Lotor “Why would he ask that?”

Lance only managed to look at Lotor, who had his jaws clenched. Remembering what he had heard of the prince's past, he realized that what they had done to Shiro was too similar to what had been done to him. Perhaps Lotor was the first subject of Operation Kuron, tortured by his own people...

“ _Nothing perishes, everything changes_. Of course,” a bitter smile spread across the prince's face. Weakened, he held to one of the seats of the paladins and Allura approached him, worried. However, Lotor looked at her with his tired eyes, and said:

“The rift is the beginning and the end of all this. That's where it all began, and where we should end it. Everything, the Empire, this war... Princess, if you do not claim the rift for yourself, then we have to find a way to close it, this time forever.”

“Claim it for me?” Allura asked, and Lance saw Coran's expression darken. Lotor probably noticed too, because he changed the subject.

“For now, we have to gather as much information as possible. The main issue is the rift, but there certainly are conflicts within the Empire, and we have to take advantage of them. We need to find out what's going on inside my father's ranks." Lotor looked at Keith. "I'm sure your fellow Blades can help us with that.”

Keith held the prince's gaze for a few seconds, then nodded. Lance wondered why Keith's attitude had changed so much from one day to the next. Only yesterday he had been beaten by the Galra.

Allura sighed, nervous. Watching her crew, she returned to her commanding attitude.

“We have too much to do. We are in dire need of information, so let's focus on that. And, when Shiro wakes up today...” the princess paused to sigh again, “we will try to talk to him, to see what he has to say. Let’s get moving.”

Everyone nodded and searched for something to do, while Allura sat down with Lotor to speak in muffled whispers.

Lance wanted a moment alone to chat with Keith, but during all that day it was impossible: the black paladin was in charge of contacting his Blade brothers and talking to the rest of the Coalition, while Lance had to help Coran and Hunk with the rescued prisoners, who were still recovering. They had to see if they could ask for information, but most of them had different levels of mental or physical issues that had to be attended first, and they spent most of the day on that, being able to successfully communicate only with the nervous Slav and the huge prisoner who had helped them to take the unconscious prisoners to the Green Lion. The huge alien, named Rodnok, agreed to answer all their questions as soon as the girl Lance had rescued from the other room at the lab, Surana, woke up. Nervous, the paladins and Coran accepted his condition.

What the prisoners didn’t know was that Coran had them under surveillance. Having seen the archives of the Kuron project, and still ignoring its magnitude, they would have to distrust even these poor people, which made the paladins feel terrible. Hunk looked as dizzy as Lance, who obsessively watched the time, and grew more and more nervous as the hour of Shiro’s release approached.

“What do you think they’ll do with Clone Shiro?” Hunk asked, suddenly, while they waited in the medbay for the thirty minutes left to pass.

“Don’t call him Clone Shiro, that's NOT Shiro. Let's call him... Uh, Kuron, I suppose," said Lance, looking at the gaunt face of his leader, his long hair floating around him.

“Sure, nice name. But what could they do with him?” Hunk asked.

“Nothing good, that's for sure. I guess they'll try to confuse us, make us believe that he's our Shiro... I dunno.” Lance scratched his head and sat on the floor with a loud bang.

“And, uhm, do you think it’ll work? I mean, we already _know_ that he’s not our Shiro, but what are we gonna do if he attacks us or something? How are we gonna defend ourselves?” Hunk sat next to Lance, his fingers twitching nervously.

“Buddy, I have no idea. I really hope we don’t get to that, but...” Lance remembered the real Shiro throwing himself at Keith and his stomach clenched. He had shot him once already, so... “I only know that, if he tries to do something to any of you, I won’t hesitate.”

Hunk watched him carefully for a few moments, before looking back at the pod.

“And do you think Keith will do the same? I mean... we know that they—"

“You’ll have to ask him that,” interrupted him Lance, too stern. Hunk buried his head a little between his shoulders.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“N-no, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just really don’t know," sighed Lance.

He didn’t know and his heart was tight with uncertainty. Although he trusted that Keith felt something for him, that something had no name yet, and Lance wondered if it could enough for the black paladin to overcome Shiro's situation on his behalf. If Keith had to pick... What would he choose?

Hunk seemed to realize that something was distressing his friend. Silently, he put a heavy hand on one of his shoulders and shook it affectionately. Lance made a small pout, leaning on his best friend's arm and sighed, while the ethereal light of the pod illuminated them both. He hoped that his leader's awakening would fix things in some way, not only for the team, but also for Keith and himself. They were in the middle of war, in space, at the center of a rebellion and Lance thought that even in better circumstances not all love stories ended well. But theirs was just beginning... and he would do anything to make it succeed. No way he would let it slip through his fingers. That's why he decided at that moment that he would do anything to protect Keith, against Zarkon, Haggar... even Shiro. Even against his will, even if Lance got hurt on the way, for the first time in his life he had set his priorities.

Keith's well-being was his main concern, and he was willing to do anything for him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're one week away from season 6 and 2 chapters away from finishing this! I'll try to update soon. There's a lot going on, but it will be solved.
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


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